KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 079
WORLD LABS SBT-DATFILE: 022111.930.55
ALL APPLICABLE SUBTITLES:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This will not be a long blog. Nothing scares these arrogant mother fucking family. I have gone up to websites of prosecutors and the FBI, nothing will back it off, but there is a lot to say and only a short time to tell it tonight, time got the fuck away from me today. Well, this is what money And power can do, we most likely have all seen the episode unless we are not fans of the great law show, L&O, where 'Christie Garrison' is found on the street murdered.
Some major significance must exist around the 3 capitol letters 'ODF' as time after time, I look up and when I think I am typing the word 'of' or some other word like it such as maybe 'if' and it is c continually being translated or turned into IMHO by some one or some thing Captain kirk, the 3 letters in caps, (ODF), and it is getting on my mother trucking rock chucking nerves at C-SQ.
My computer is a box of trash that does not smell yet, it is just about worthless, hacked up, and done, nothing can stop these evil wicked slime bag peeps in this 'wonderful' family. Also, many of the silicon wafers are propagating, a secret not yet on the internet, just as CHEMTRAILS was not either in 1987, but then, what was the internet at that poignant but a bunch of silly circuits that were more a joke than a reality. Look hard at your monitor screen, and you will see these tiny teeny offspring's of the wafers, they live, they crawl around, and by two thousand twenty or so, it will be the hot new chemtrail topic on the net. The last time I was in 2029, I heard a very wild song talking about the wild new technologies, the gods have mercy on all of freaking us, YO. You cannot kill them, they are inside, between the outer screen and the inner substance right behind it, and if you try and squish them, you will only server to damage your computer monitor, and they will crawl back inside and live. They do know you are there, they ARE THE (“MILLIONTH-COUNCIL”), or better said, their kids. What, only we humans get the fun of sex and child rearing, sheeeeeit?????????????????????????? Wake up world.
This evil 333,333 Astral Plane entities are not only doing all this, and exist as transistors and silicon wafer chips and other smelly little doodad things that we see on breadboards and motherboards should you take a hammer to any of your electronic junk and crack it all open for a visual inspection of our real true aliens that took us all totally over quite a long time ago, but they also are writing our names across the sky in an endless game of a cross between distraction from the hell-knowledge of endlessness, and the thrill of confusion and panic creation, along with all the real other and more real effects that this chemical poison is indeed doing. I thought I was totally nuts when this bullshit all started in late 1987, and throughout the remainder ODF the eighties and then into the nineties and beyond that into the [present point in time. Now I know that if this was not in my imagination, MISTER DAVID LEIGH SMITH of Haddonfield, New Jersey, then none of the other shit was or is either, that I always knew was all real and horribly monstrously true. Yes Mister DLS, your blackboards of 1970 were there all along to tell me that none of this was ever in my imagination, right down to this very evening.
Lenny McKinnon the great, the mighty creator of the new world, that is not known about by the entire conspiracy theory groups of the great internet world. Oh well, THEY DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THE “WRITTEN NAMES ACROSS THE SKY”, DID THEY BACK IN 1989, DONNA SUMMER, both DQ and DJ????????????????? Yeah Donna, both of U, or is it one and the same and the best kept secret of the world since MI appeared on the open reel master of the song called 'REAL GOOD GIRL' back in August of 1986, yeah, so 'MI MIND IS MESSED UP', wow, then why did you feel the need to do an entire album shouting out that I had mistaken the identity of my record promoter Lenny, with you, and yes, I did, but if you are so wonderful and terrific, then what would my little nobody nothing opinion matter? I am a mere crumb of total insignificance in the back woods of South-Eastern New Jersey, or was before the great TAWF sent me forever to Florida in the dead of a cold winter night right out of Patterson's best. Well, for that matter, I seem to have effected an entire large slew of great recording artist, have I not? So this is why there is no way this all is some random chance bunch of coincidences, because the odds for that being the true reality would be astronomically around quadrillions of one against being a possibility, that is freaking why, YO!
The 6th dimension is the only topic that will never seriously get internetigized because trying to explain to seven plus billions of dreaming entities that there actually is this much higher existing dimension where little energies send themselves through a lower filter and into the astral/hyperspace rotation or the karmic wheel as the ancients saw it, the enlightened ones that is, and all of this is why entire universes endlessly downline and come from endless uplines, is beyond the grasp and scope of those wishing to remain in the dream and not remember that there is another side of the screen, to put it in ways that a virtual reality programmer or fan of movies such as 13th floor can identifreakingfy with.
If David Smith of Haddonfield back in 1970 had the crap on his blackboard that told me what I needed to remember way out here 246.2 trillion miles out into positive space from us there that day with no more cosmic significance than just helping one student on one particular day realize that indeed a dirty minded young student teacher was trying to get into his freaking pants, than I will not only be a monkey's uncle but a copyrighted 1983 uncle, on huge wild bended knees. The mighty dominant-exploratron somnambulist Paula Belinda King, of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG in 1969 already planned taking one of my kids away from me in the time to follow, or maybe two; or is more alien saucer stuff involved in this ultra wild mix of unfathomable events, and all sponsored by my lovely Aunt Geraldine Snow, and her great wonderful friend, the CIA operative and also, SHAH OF IRAN? If it is not all true in some way, then why all this hacking and trouble? Why did IRAQ invade Kuwait the very day after I put the tape that Donna summer the great DJ made into 3 separate MP3 clicks on the Mark Mohr Hammonton Hate-page???????
I know what I know, and the biggest coolest shit is that if I am not nuts about the jet shit in the sky all these years, and that I now have ten million followers without any of them even knowing me, or the how or why of any of it, then nothing else was imagined, not according to David Smith, or 10 million others. Not a bad day's work at the office, right Donald Trump? Hay, as misses Bassler said to me, “Come o0n down and land”. What are you, scared of a damn teenaged girl buddy??????????????????? Well, maybe you are a lot smarter than me, sheeeeeeeeeeit, you're the freaking Harvard graduate after all, hats off 2-U old pal!!!!!!!!! Quit taking Ann King's money BRO, poor bitch needs her smokes ya' shithead.
Hello 36th Avenue, cousin Letty gives you guys her best, give her a buzz when you get a free second she says to ask you, or stop by Saint Louis Avenue when you're in the area. I truly am sorry for my RGG song, MI, don't hate me forever, you sure don't hate me in SDK as Scylla.
END TRANSMISSION:
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 078
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 078
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296 SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE-AND-TIME FILE: CH-078-022111.055
VERY EARLY PRESIDENTS' DAY, MONDAY MORNING
SUTITLES WHETHER PRINTED OR OMITTED ON ALL BLOGS
OF MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN ARE AS FOLLOWS:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG:
FIGHTING THE CANNONS OF HELL FIRE:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well, my last journal was not dated because I was not sure if these blogs were going to end forever. I am not going to let that oversized punk road traveling sleeper companion of mine, defeat me that easily; all though HE has taken over my computer AGAIN as he did before in 2008, and all the blogs back there show the problem was very real and right in my mother fucking face, and here we go all over again. It was so nice for a while, and then one day, a clever plan was hatched, getting me to download one of HIS worms. My clock reads 1:24 in the morning, my computer clock insists on showing 10:24 PM last night at the PACIFIC TIME. When I go to a weather site that automatically tracks, supposedly anyway, the location of my computer, it insists that I am in a place near the San Francisco Bay area of the CHARMED WITCHES, lovely car kicker/destroyer Shannon Doe being of course one of them. Pink houses of Warren Grove in New Jersey, or out there in the Cali-Bay area all not withstanding, nearby to this locale is a beautiful place that I have on perpetual scan now, called Saint Mathew, if translated in the Spanish or Latin American tongue, and would be called here in America, San Mateo, and would be pronounced similar in accent as well as basic lettering sound structure, to the word potato. Roughly 95,000 very nice peeps reside in this California place, one of which has connected himself into my computer, Mister BOOM, who else, with the help of his army of teen-pals, natch. Can I prove this like I know that one and one is two? No. So I ask anyone out here to tell me if I am right or wrong, and then steer me correctly, after I detail the facts of the worst weekend of my entire life, caused by what else, these lovely peeps of “{{{((THAT FAMILY”))}}}. AND IT IS GROWING QUITE FAST, may I offer my cigar-congrats. Now, here is what happened.
A week ago the mouse began not responding to my commands, and then started moving on its own and doing things as though someone else was in total control over my computer. Just tonight, it forced me to answer a stupid survey that popped up on u-tube about an IQ test, and caused a click-on to the section marked, “BOTH”, out of 3 possible boxes to click on. I ignore these things, and am not some immature kid who never grew up like some other peeps out here, hmmm,hmmm, ah-hmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally the least hacking is done while I am typing on office word, but then, I unplug my modem from the outside world, but that does not strop worms all ready effecting stuff from continuing to do their thing. It merely limits even m,ore invasions. But anything on the internet is instant fair game to this totally ignorant moronic power-struck imbecile brain cooked case. By the way, old road friend of the dreamworlds, jealousy does not become you Doggie-AL. But for right now on with this horrible story, and then I will remind my readership how this really all began by me in 1983 from a bathtub, and yes you heard right and I did not mistype anything, I said a BATHTUB, in a small New Jersey town by the name of Atco, named actually for Atlantic County, and where I resided, and it is all in the copyrighted book from 1994 that I wrote called, “THE PERMISSION BATRRIER”. This story was told, but it is doubtful that many peeps archived a million words and remember the story so soon, it WILL be indeed retold, and on this blog before it is all over tonight, sorry, this morning, tonight for you NAM. You know, there was another symbolic and in this century event, that the letters of NAM can indeed represent here that take u[p far beyond just the NEW AGE MAFIA, which would be those fat cat world owners that sold our country and all of us, smack dab right down the river at light speed squared and never even freaking stopped to look back once nor blink a single ass eyelid, YO. Yes that good old Moon of Jupiter, keyboards seem to be responsible for giving it way more attention than all of the other eleven Jupiter moons combined, just by placing the (I) and the (O) next to each other. If one does not proof read real carefully all works before posting or have the necessary time to reedit later, things tend to come out 'IO' so very many times; the name of this moon, I salute you. I wish I knew how to get a few hundred million people to my blogs and websites and u-tube sites, as my story might just be the only one that has a small chance to save humanity from a fate far worse than anyone's present concept of doom or death, as this is not what any near future holds in more than 99.9999999999999999% of all time-line universes in the vast and virtually unlimited sized fifth dimensional hyperspace. No man does not wink off this existence, as man cannot leave this dream. Even ODF the entire universe, physically, could be wiped out and just gone in unexplainable and inconceivable ways, it would merely all just pop right back into place and splice its own self into the perfect meshed mix of everything, and for all we know this happens on regular cycles , but we would nwever even know it. Ask Olivia Newton John what I am referring to, she stole the idea for the eighties movie from my cousin Donald Powell from the Spruce Street Video store that he and his fagot friends all owned, in Philadelphia. Anyway for right now let me please just continue telling what this piece of garbage has done to me, from his 36th Avenue mansion. Before I go on, do not make any trouble for these peeps, any loyal Morians, remember the first commandment in all of Morianity, this is exactly what these peeps all want us to do, I'll freaking handle this bullshit, just wait and see. This is all going to be litigated properly, once I gather all the needed and sufficient evidence to proceed out there, and go to the court there and file my plaintiff charges against him, along with the Mister-Ed Network since quite obviously, he could never have pulled this off without ass my pal John Lennon put it so beautifully back in the nineteen-sixties, “am little help from his friends”, John left out a 'LOT' of help from his 'HACKER TEEN' friends, but back then, how could poor old John know that, or that Chapman was on his trail as the years moved backward and closed in on his red-ex. So anyway, here is the rest of all the bullshit that happened over another famous hellish holiday weekend for the HUNTINGTON CURSED PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The clock refused to be set on the time that belongs to this location, at first it would go back a while and then suddenly it magically or 'wormagically' would switch back if you'll permit this made up word that I feel is tremendously apropos here. Then one site in particular that tracks the personal computer used with IP numbers and all this other such technical jargon horse manure, should be giving me weather for my location of Fort Pierce, Florida, yet when I reset it over and over, it went back to this other location 2,900 and something miles away from my house. Eventually, a box popped up telling me not to alter tr5he setting as it is designed to show the weather for MY LOCATION. Wow, I am tempted to pun-in here with this one, jab, right cross, zing!!!!!!!! So at this point two nights ago, I said to myself, “YO butt-wipe, this is the area the person must live in that is worming into my computer”. So how am I doing so far Detective Briscoe and Access Nation, Nora D.A., and MISTER Dick Wolf? Then I yellow paged over to the city and hit the click-in for “FIND A PERSON”. Then I typed the name POW, well,, you know what I typed, and filled in the city and blah-blah-blah, and the only listing that was male was a David. So then I went to my GOOGLE MAP program and did a direction search. Instead of typing the “A” box and the “B” Box as 2 addresses, I theorized that this address may be a brother or a cousin, or even them, so I retyped their two line address on just one box, and on the other now empty directions box, merely typed in the town name, Saint Mathew, in translated Spanish, out in Jason-Cali. If my machine was not commandeered from the address “A” box, it would not even work, I know that much about computers, and my knowledge sucks when it comes to this “Jack McCoy Serena Sutherland electronic Law and Order shell-game”. POW, suddenly here is what I am given by the GOOGLE MAP DUIRECTIOS from the home of DAVID POWPOW: Remember he is out in San Mateo, California -94403 on South Norfolk Street. So here is how I came to learn that his powerful brother or cousin has a mansion on 36th Avenue, just less than two and a half miles away. These map directions pop up, remember, I do not put my address on these 'A' or 'B' boxes anywhere, the connected internet mapping system that seems to be all built into computers from the second that we all buy them and hook them up and begin doing what we do with them, seems to know who we are and exactly where we are, and so on and so forth. So to visit NAM, brother or cousin David follows these GOOGLE instructions: He departs South Norfolk Street towards Waters Park Drive, and then he turns to the right, taking him onto East Hillsdale Boulevard. As he proceeds along, this name of the road becomes WEST Hillsdale Blvd. He then proceeds to turn left, onto Alameda de Las Pulgas, where he then makes his final right onto 36th Avenue where NAM reside, and who knows, maybe this is where the NEW AGE MAFIA indeed is living, that is not my call to blog, YO!!!! Anyway, I have my temp-key and Google Earth license and have all of 36th Street under zoom in swivel surveillance. Their even is an audio feed, an audio enhance, and recording system, that will all be recorded straight off the screed into my small digital video-cam. All one needs to do is place the computer monitor nest to a lamp on both sides with a 100 watt light bulb on each side, or 150 is better, place the camera on a fixed perch, and then let it record the recording, and then the evidence that this hack was indeed done to me is well on its way to a prosecution. It is not you I am after TQ, you have nothing to worry about. I have all the sheriff names of the SM County, it all is on thee internet, the entire world is there just waiting to be plucked off the tree like fresh ripe ass fruit. Now if some genius out here can tell me the rerror of my ways, fine, but no Miss 'Jam wells' from the UM are invited to respond with any silly ass shit, I don't wanna hear it. I know this is all real and happening, and somebody may be going to jail; unless this shit stops and it is explained to me to my freaking satisfaction just why this all was done to me in the first place, and not just this, I am talking 5-10-20 + freaking years, so you better have a good answer ready when the sheriff comes knocking on the door to your freaking 36th Street Mansion, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for the 1983 BATHTUB MUSIC CURSE, that led to the computer viruses and hacking of 15-25 years out into the future.
I talked to my metaphysical friends on the telephone, and recorded them with permission of course, and told one of them how I planned to start something that I had named, the MUSIC CURSE. It had to do with placing a destructive sound on a tape that ears could not hear, but when it was played it would ruin the tape recorder that the tape was played on. Trying to play other tapes on recorders that were starting to go bad after the sound went through them, ruined more tapes or infecting them with the same sound. This process went on to eventually destroy the entire music industry. I was tired of having my mother fucking songs ripped off for 3 or 4 years, a long time to a 28 and a half year old punk like me at the freaking time, and UI was very pissed off. Naturally this was all made up and the conversation was entirely metaphysical with made up phase-four characters such as Professor Jackson and Shorty MacInvondi. Still, the idea caught on, as these tapes later were stolen out of my car, as were the ones that you hear on the MARK MOHR INTERNET HATEPAGE, the 3 MP3's advertised by that super mega slime going by the handle of DJ-DONNA SUMMER, this butt wipe is huge hyper time big on the freaking U-TUBE, listen to the ass hole. And listen to Bruce as well as me, he can get you rolling on the floor, I swear to the booming sounds and the glittering lights of Trumps mighty casino CASTLE, turned MAINA, and they symbolism is either fucking dead or nonsense, oh yeah, RIGHT, huh MI???????
Well, this is just one of the many stories you all will encounter as Julia White's 2nd Calendar is ushered in after the winter equinox the year after this one. In 1987, there were no peeps talking about CHEMTRAILS, only poor me and David Roth, as we got our bodies wiped out and wrecked by this viciousness straight out of NICJK'S HELL. As the years keep on rolling in, you will see that as far out as my blogs may appear right now today folks, they will all be proven out to be totally true,k JUST MARK MY WORDS, and remember, WHY WOULD I FREAKING LIE?????????????????????
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2296 SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE-AND-TIME FILE: CH-078-022111.055
VERY EARLY PRESIDENTS' DAY, MONDAY MORNING
SUTITLES WHETHER PRINTED OR OMITTED ON ALL BLOGS
OF MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN ARE AS FOLLOWS:
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE ON THIS BLOG:
FIGHTING THE CANNONS OF HELL FIRE:
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Well, my last journal was not dated because I was not sure if these blogs were going to end forever. I am not going to let that oversized punk road traveling sleeper companion of mine, defeat me that easily; all though HE has taken over my computer AGAIN as he did before in 2008, and all the blogs back there show the problem was very real and right in my mother fucking face, and here we go all over again. It was so nice for a while, and then one day, a clever plan was hatched, getting me to download one of HIS worms. My clock reads 1:24 in the morning, my computer clock insists on showing 10:24 PM last night at the PACIFIC TIME. When I go to a weather site that automatically tracks, supposedly anyway, the location of my computer, it insists that I am in a place near the San Francisco Bay area of the CHARMED WITCHES, lovely car kicker/destroyer Shannon Doe being of course one of them. Pink houses of Warren Grove in New Jersey, or out there in the Cali-Bay area all not withstanding, nearby to this locale is a beautiful place that I have on perpetual scan now, called Saint Mathew, if translated in the Spanish or Latin American tongue, and would be called here in America, San Mateo, and would be pronounced similar in accent as well as basic lettering sound structure, to the word potato. Roughly 95,000 very nice peeps reside in this California place, one of which has connected himself into my computer, Mister BOOM, who else, with the help of his army of teen-pals, natch. Can I prove this like I know that one and one is two? No. So I ask anyone out here to tell me if I am right or wrong, and then steer me correctly, after I detail the facts of the worst weekend of my entire life, caused by what else, these lovely peeps of “{{{((THAT FAMILY”))}}}. AND IT IS GROWING QUITE FAST, may I offer my cigar-congrats. Now, here is what happened.
A week ago the mouse began not responding to my commands, and then started moving on its own and doing things as though someone else was in total control over my computer. Just tonight, it forced me to answer a stupid survey that popped up on u-tube about an IQ test, and caused a click-on to the section marked, “BOTH”, out of 3 possible boxes to click on. I ignore these things, and am not some immature kid who never grew up like some other peeps out here, hmmm,hmmm, ah-hmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Normally the least hacking is done while I am typing on office word, but then, I unplug my modem from the outside world, but that does not strop worms all ready effecting stuff from continuing to do their thing. It merely limits even m,ore invasions. But anything on the internet is instant fair game to this totally ignorant moronic power-struck imbecile brain cooked case. By the way, old road friend of the dreamworlds, jealousy does not become you Doggie-AL. But for right now on with this horrible story, and then I will remind my readership how this really all began by me in 1983 from a bathtub, and yes you heard right and I did not mistype anything, I said a BATHTUB, in a small New Jersey town by the name of Atco, named actually for Atlantic County, and where I resided, and it is all in the copyrighted book from 1994 that I wrote called, “THE PERMISSION BATRRIER”. This story was told, but it is doubtful that many peeps archived a million words and remember the story so soon, it WILL be indeed retold, and on this blog before it is all over tonight, sorry, this morning, tonight for you NAM. You know, there was another symbolic and in this century event, that the letters of NAM can indeed represent here that take u[p far beyond just the NEW AGE MAFIA, which would be those fat cat world owners that sold our country and all of us, smack dab right down the river at light speed squared and never even freaking stopped to look back once nor blink a single ass eyelid, YO. Yes that good old Moon of Jupiter, keyboards seem to be responsible for giving it way more attention than all of the other eleven Jupiter moons combined, just by placing the (I) and the (O) next to each other. If one does not proof read real carefully all works before posting or have the necessary time to reedit later, things tend to come out 'IO' so very many times; the name of this moon, I salute you. I wish I knew how to get a few hundred million people to my blogs and websites and u-tube sites, as my story might just be the only one that has a small chance to save humanity from a fate far worse than anyone's present concept of doom or death, as this is not what any near future holds in more than 99.9999999999999999% of all time-line universes in the vast and virtually unlimited sized fifth dimensional hyperspace. No man does not wink off this existence, as man cannot leave this dream. Even ODF the entire universe, physically, could be wiped out and just gone in unexplainable and inconceivable ways, it would merely all just pop right back into place and splice its own self into the perfect meshed mix of everything, and for all we know this happens on regular cycles , but we would nwever even know it. Ask Olivia Newton John what I am referring to, she stole the idea for the eighties movie from my cousin Donald Powell from the Spruce Street Video store that he and his fagot friends all owned, in Philadelphia. Anyway for right now let me please just continue telling what this piece of garbage has done to me, from his 36th Avenue mansion. Before I go on, do not make any trouble for these peeps, any loyal Morians, remember the first commandment in all of Morianity, this is exactly what these peeps all want us to do, I'll freaking handle this bullshit, just wait and see. This is all going to be litigated properly, once I gather all the needed and sufficient evidence to proceed out there, and go to the court there and file my plaintiff charges against him, along with the Mister-Ed Network since quite obviously, he could never have pulled this off without ass my pal John Lennon put it so beautifully back in the nineteen-sixties, “am little help from his friends”, John left out a 'LOT' of help from his 'HACKER TEEN' friends, but back then, how could poor old John know that, or that Chapman was on his trail as the years moved backward and closed in on his red-ex. So anyway, here is the rest of all the bullshit that happened over another famous hellish holiday weekend for the HUNTINGTON CURSED PATHETIC MOUNTAINPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The clock refused to be set on the time that belongs to this location, at first it would go back a while and then suddenly it magically or 'wormagically' would switch back if you'll permit this made up word that I feel is tremendously apropos here. Then one site in particular that tracks the personal computer used with IP numbers and all this other such technical jargon horse manure, should be giving me weather for my location of Fort Pierce, Florida, yet when I reset it over and over, it went back to this other location 2,900 and something miles away from my house. Eventually, a box popped up telling me not to alter tr5he setting as it is designed to show the weather for MY LOCATION. Wow, I am tempted to pun-in here with this one, jab, right cross, zing!!!!!!!! So at this point two nights ago, I said to myself, “YO butt-wipe, this is the area the person must live in that is worming into my computer”. So how am I doing so far Detective Briscoe and Access Nation, Nora D.A., and MISTER Dick Wolf? Then I yellow paged over to the city and hit the click-in for “FIND A PERSON”. Then I typed the name POW, well,, you know what I typed, and filled in the city and blah-blah-blah, and the only listing that was male was a David. So then I went to my GOOGLE MAP program and did a direction search. Instead of typing the “A” box and the “B” Box as 2 addresses, I theorized that this address may be a brother or a cousin, or even them, so I retyped their two line address on just one box, and on the other now empty directions box, merely typed in the town name, Saint Mathew, in translated Spanish, out in Jason-Cali. If my machine was not commandeered from the address “A” box, it would not even work, I know that much about computers, and my knowledge sucks when it comes to this “Jack McCoy Serena Sutherland electronic Law and Order shell-game”. POW, suddenly here is what I am given by the GOOGLE MAP DUIRECTIOS from the home of DAVID POWPOW: Remember he is out in San Mateo, California -94403 on South Norfolk Street. So here is how I came to learn that his powerful brother or cousin has a mansion on 36th Avenue, just less than two and a half miles away. These map directions pop up, remember, I do not put my address on these 'A' or 'B' boxes anywhere, the connected internet mapping system that seems to be all built into computers from the second that we all buy them and hook them up and begin doing what we do with them, seems to know who we are and exactly where we are, and so on and so forth. So to visit NAM, brother or cousin David follows these GOOGLE instructions: He departs South Norfolk Street towards Waters Park Drive, and then he turns to the right, taking him onto East Hillsdale Boulevard. As he proceeds along, this name of the road becomes WEST Hillsdale Blvd. He then proceeds to turn left, onto Alameda de Las Pulgas, where he then makes his final right onto 36th Avenue where NAM reside, and who knows, maybe this is where the NEW AGE MAFIA indeed is living, that is not my call to blog, YO!!!! Anyway, I have my temp-key and Google Earth license and have all of 36th Street under zoom in swivel surveillance. Their even is an audio feed, an audio enhance, and recording system, that will all be recorded straight off the screed into my small digital video-cam. All one needs to do is place the computer monitor nest to a lamp on both sides with a 100 watt light bulb on each side, or 150 is better, place the camera on a fixed perch, and then let it record the recording, and then the evidence that this hack was indeed done to me is well on its way to a prosecution. It is not you I am after TQ, you have nothing to worry about. I have all the sheriff names of the SM County, it all is on thee internet, the entire world is there just waiting to be plucked off the tree like fresh ripe ass fruit. Now if some genius out here can tell me the rerror of my ways, fine, but no Miss 'Jam wells' from the UM are invited to respond with any silly ass shit, I don't wanna hear it. I know this is all real and happening, and somebody may be going to jail; unless this shit stops and it is explained to me to my freaking satisfaction just why this all was done to me in the first place, and not just this, I am talking 5-10-20 + freaking years, so you better have a good answer ready when the sheriff comes knocking on the door to your freaking 36th Street Mansion, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for the 1983 BATHTUB MUSIC CURSE, that led to the computer viruses and hacking of 15-25 years out into the future.
I talked to my metaphysical friends on the telephone, and recorded them with permission of course, and told one of them how I planned to start something that I had named, the MUSIC CURSE. It had to do with placing a destructive sound on a tape that ears could not hear, but when it was played it would ruin the tape recorder that the tape was played on. Trying to play other tapes on recorders that were starting to go bad after the sound went through them, ruined more tapes or infecting them with the same sound. This process went on to eventually destroy the entire music industry. I was tired of having my mother fucking songs ripped off for 3 or 4 years, a long time to a 28 and a half year old punk like me at the freaking time, and UI was very pissed off. Naturally this was all made up and the conversation was entirely metaphysical with made up phase-four characters such as Professor Jackson and Shorty MacInvondi. Still, the idea caught on, as these tapes later were stolen out of my car, as were the ones that you hear on the MARK MOHR INTERNET HATEPAGE, the 3 MP3's advertised by that super mega slime going by the handle of DJ-DONNA SUMMER, this butt wipe is huge hyper time big on the freaking U-TUBE, listen to the ass hole. And listen to Bruce as well as me, he can get you rolling on the floor, I swear to the booming sounds and the glittering lights of Trumps mighty casino CASTLE, turned MAINA, and they symbolism is either fucking dead or nonsense, oh yeah, RIGHT, huh MI???????
Well, this is just one of the many stories you all will encounter as Julia White's 2nd Calendar is ushered in after the winter equinox the year after this one. In 1987, there were no peeps talking about CHEMTRAILS, only poor me and David Roth, as we got our bodies wiped out and wrecked by this viciousness straight out of NICJK'S HELL. As the years keep on rolling in, you will see that as far out as my blogs may appear right now today folks, they will all be proven out to be totally true,k JUST MARK MY WORDS, and remember, WHY WOULD I FREAKING LIE?????????????????????
END TRANSMISSION:
Saturday, February 19, 2011
supplemental
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY:
It is 8 minutes before one in the morning, Sunday the 20th of February in the year of the PITSY number '4', also known as 2011, the last full year of the FIRST CALENDAR OF THE GREAT JULIA WHITE, who I have had the privilege, and pleasure, of knowing for many millions of Earth years now. This is not any journal entry, it lies infinitely tucked away in the bizarre shadows of know mans land.
I would ask you how the weather is out there, but the report and the time endlessly displays on the machine here. It seems that if cuz or brother David or whatever, were to drive about 2.3 miles heading on South Norfolk, and making a few other turns here and there until reaching the great 36th Avenue, he would be right there with all of the fun. I cannot for the life of me understand why people get off doing such horrible things.
I am watching all of you like hawks now. I will only stand back and observe. The future of the entire world is at stake and I cannot risk doing much about this wild situation, other can apologize to my wonderful Diana. She told me an incredible thing would happen in the near future, and after the new century came in. It would be unfathomable, and a story believed by nobody.
Buddy, I am not after your wife, why have you commandeered my world all over again. GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All I want to do is go to South America and remain there for about 300 years. When I come back, all of you will be long dead and gone. I reiterate, have a nice life Sarah, only that was all part of PITSTY year #3. Does your arrogance even trump, TRUMP Mister Teengod??????????????? Five people have all witnessed that I now appear to live 2.3 miles away from you, only I am not Cousin David, or brother, or whatever. Funny how numbers shout louder than mouths ever can. 1802 Robin Hill, Sandy's place at 1208 Greentree Lane years ago, and all the ones and eights in so many telephone numbers. Gawky the genius, or did you say it was Einstein, MI? Even you cannot explain away the truth that technology reveals. GOOGLE thanks you, Cohen thanks You, old movies thank you, and I thank you. Despising you is a waste of my energy and attention, for you to put so much time into me, it tells me all I need to know. Mister Ripley, believe it or not, this is all true and all doubts died and were buried today, I bid you a nice night.
One final footnote is important since you guys have so damn much interest in poor little old me. When I spoke the other day to the Copyright Office Examiner over the telephone, the first thing out of her mouth when I asked her something, speak of time warps, was “What makes you think”. On this unlucky-7-note, I will now get my glittering lights and booming whale sounds off of this public world system, as this message is meant for only two very wild people.
I wish you guys the best, whether you know it or not. Give me a few months and I'll be out of America and far away forever. I will enjoy the future chats with your great-great-great grandchildren at World Labs some day. Bye for now.
It is 8 minutes before one in the morning, Sunday the 20th of February in the year of the PITSY number '4', also known as 2011, the last full year of the FIRST CALENDAR OF THE GREAT JULIA WHITE, who I have had the privilege, and pleasure, of knowing for many millions of Earth years now. This is not any journal entry, it lies infinitely tucked away in the bizarre shadows of know mans land.
I would ask you how the weather is out there, but the report and the time endlessly displays on the machine here. It seems that if cuz or brother David or whatever, were to drive about 2.3 miles heading on South Norfolk, and making a few other turns here and there until reaching the great 36th Avenue, he would be right there with all of the fun. I cannot for the life of me understand why people get off doing such horrible things.
I am watching all of you like hawks now. I will only stand back and observe. The future of the entire world is at stake and I cannot risk doing much about this wild situation, other can apologize to my wonderful Diana. She told me an incredible thing would happen in the near future, and after the new century came in. It would be unfathomable, and a story believed by nobody.
Buddy, I am not after your wife, why have you commandeered my world all over again. GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All I want to do is go to South America and remain there for about 300 years. When I come back, all of you will be long dead and gone. I reiterate, have a nice life Sarah, only that was all part of PITSTY year #3. Does your arrogance even trump, TRUMP Mister Teengod??????????????? Five people have all witnessed that I now appear to live 2.3 miles away from you, only I am not Cousin David, or brother, or whatever. Funny how numbers shout louder than mouths ever can. 1802 Robin Hill, Sandy's place at 1208 Greentree Lane years ago, and all the ones and eights in so many telephone numbers. Gawky the genius, or did you say it was Einstein, MI? Even you cannot explain away the truth that technology reveals. GOOGLE thanks you, Cohen thanks You, old movies thank you, and I thank you. Despising you is a waste of my energy and attention, for you to put so much time into me, it tells me all I need to know. Mister Ripley, believe it or not, this is all true and all doubts died and were buried today, I bid you a nice night.
One final footnote is important since you guys have so damn much interest in poor little old me. When I spoke the other day to the Copyright Office Examiner over the telephone, the first thing out of her mouth when I asked her something, speak of time warps, was “What makes you think”. On this unlucky-7-note, I will now get my glittering lights and booming whale sounds off of this public world system, as this message is meant for only two very wild people.
I wish you guys the best, whether you know it or not. Give me a few months and I'll be out of America and far away forever. I will enjoy the future chats with your great-great-great grandchildren at World Labs some day. Bye for now.
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 077
KINGNEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 077
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-077-022011.624.55555555—SATURDAY MID-AFTERNOON
SUBTITIE: THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME----
SUBTITLE: THE EOITOME OF HARASSMENT,
INTERNET VERSION----
EXTRA ST: 'THE INVISIBLE POWERFUL DIABOLIS CALLIO'
BEGINNING TRANS-MI-SSION:
The entire 5-6 years of my blogging-career tells a major story that speaks for itself, and if the word AUTIOMATIC was ever invented for any one thing in this freaking world, it would have to be to describe that fact. This is a fact, no different than what one plus one has always equaled, and that it is just under eighty degrees now here in Fort Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol. Milky Way Galaxy, (USAESMWG), If anybody wants to really attempt to disprove this all mighty freaking story, I challenge anyone to try really freaking doing it, simply begin at any place, read both backward, or forward, from there, and realize that not even Einstein could do all of this and make up a hoax of this freaking ass magnitude, it even outdoes the hilarious Bruce and his cussing party, along with Joshua the synthesizer playing son of his, all listed under the (MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY), 'internet-hate-page' created by the great ('DJ DONNA SUMMER'), yes Donna was really out to get me Detective “DANIELS” of L&O, ONE WAY OR THE SWIFFER MOP OTHER, after-all, and WOW, 'that symbolism thing' again, U GOTTA FUCKING LOVE IT, HUH PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah Bruce, you and me know how to get angry at this old world, and since my entire home theater system and computer is all hooked together, I can download in analogue, and early this morning before retiring to my bed, I placed both your rantings, and mine from the early Bill Clinton years, onto a cassette tape for me to enjoy a laugh in the car when I feel like I need one; and usually this is all of the mother freaking time, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beginning around twenty minutes past eleven this freaking ass moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, old school pal, McDowell, the god of Cali along with the figure head overseer Mister Muscles Terminator Nohelp Buttwipe, attacked me SUPER ULTRA HYPER ASS FREAKING TIME, YO!!!!!!!! My video remote was struck hard suddenly and out of the fucking ass blue without warning or reason, and over and over again, and I rechecked and retested the fucking batteries and they are all the way green and fucking strong. I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY BACK IN MOTHER-FUCKING WHITE CITY WHEN I CAME BACK FROM THE PUBLIC LIBRARY AND REALIZED THAT MY FUCKING PERSONAL FUCKING VIDEO PROPERTY HAD BEEN AGAIN (TAMPERED WITH) BY THE KING/CALLIO/MCGUIRE CREW OF THE AWESOME POWERFUL (THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY), OR 'TAWF'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ever since they hacked into the remote, it is now a double remote, their remote, in the same way they that they now are also inside of my mother fucking computer, TOTALLY ILLEGALLY, but to the two peeps involved, this is an old song, and I do not think either of them know that I know shit, only I do. Still, HE is forcing HER in my humble opinion or IMHO if the old 'net-expression' still is used or applies anymore as it did in the nineteen freaking nineties. Some may be wondering why Scylla, the All Mighty SSJK picks patterns of men and lovers who are so controlling and dominating, but then again, the great wisdom of DICK WOLF and the television show “L&O” kicks in to show and re-explain it all in living displays of unfathomable color and sound. We all jack into this program and are here until our last dream where Morty Mortino hits the red Hendershodt “X” at our upper right corner of the 'hologram', and ends the program. When I attended the CAMP CHESAPEAKE in Northeast, Maryland, USAWESMWG, in July of both 1967 and 1968 for two weeks each time for a total month over the course of two separate years, there was a girl there named Louise Hendershodt. She was about the loveliest young teen that I had ever encountered, and all the boys were awestruck and like 'totally nuts for her', as kids today would describe it. One night in the cabin that I was in, it may have been the Algonquin Cabin, they all were named Indian names as this was an area of Native American folks long ago where the camp was presently standing at that era in time. This was before the TRINITRAIL of middle December in the coming year of 1969 that formed a perfect and absolutely gorgeous 'asterisk shape' as it expanded and filled the entire ass skies over East Camden County in new Jersey following my return from the experience or dreaming-interaction where the All Mighty Goddess Sarah-Stacey Krassle, had taken the special chain away from me and even told me that when IO come out of the experience, I should check my strong box where I kept it as I would come to find that it is gone in waking life now as well, and sure enough, it was, mind bending as this story appears to be. I legally attest to all of this, under voluntary full charges and penalties of libel and perjury should anyone ever prove me to be a fucking liar about any of this horrendous dog shit. Back now to the night at the camp cabin. A dream came on me after falling into a very uneasy sleep, I was miserable at that camp and hated every day there, counting hours down until it was time to book out of there both years. My counselor, Mack Kaiter was a first cousin of the then very famous news anchorman Lester. It was some time-set up, and I know this now, after-all, my high school, Haddon township High in Westmont, New Jersey, it is all there on the great FACEBOOK, and the same time when Nicky boy or ALD took me back to this place and then stole my time box or oblitron making it impossible for me to return back to where I lived in the year of 1996, 28 years away as a grown man in Williamstown, New Jersey. This causes me to relive this time in my life over and over again, and the movie “17-Again” was not amusing at all to me back last year or the one before that, whatever, you can all burn up in DOGFTOWN for a hundred Mininna-Kalpa, this is what about nearly 90 thousand years of Earth time would feel like in this dog-awful condition-interaction, or you would think of in your mortal minds reading this peeps, as “place”. Back now to the dreaming-interaction in the Algonquin Cabin at Camp Chesapeake. I was standing on the long boat dock leading from near the boat house where Marylou was in charge of, at the far end of it out where the water surrounds on 3 sides, left, right, and in front. Suddenly Louise the camp heart-throb was standing behind me and no one else was anywhere at all, the entire dream-scape was a clear bright blue sky, bright dark blue water, a long dock, and the two of us, and nothing else whatsoever. Then a powerful sonic boom went off. Then she grabbed me and held me close to her and asked what the sound was, and I told her that I did not know. Then it became higher and higher in pitch, sounding like a cross between the call of dolphins and whales. Then I looked up into the still very bright blue sky and a giant red “X” was hovering over the distant right side high above, from the shores near Aberdeen across the Chesapeake Bay. She pointed up with her finger and her finger grew like the nose of Pinocchio in the famous story. As it grew, it began nearing the red ex. It was a bright small chemtrail near to where the sun was beginning to get low and colorful in the skies. Finally she touched it and everything went totally black. No sound, no light, no nothing, but I was not awake, but instead was totally inside this interaction, you would all use the word of “dream”. This went on what seemed a very frightening hour or so and then I seemed to fall into a more normal nights sleep from this point, and when I gad awakened, some git bag kid had my hand in a pot of water, seeing if it would make me piss myself, a trick done quite frequently in summer boy's camps a lot, at least back in the nineteen freaking sixties. Long story short, this was a long time before windows or internet or anything at all like this. Still a moron like Bruce Cursor or anyone else can certainly draw the distinction here, right??????
My day trading business partner knows what's been done to my computer. He does not believe that this is what is happening on his awake level, but that does not bother me. As long as he knows it on his deeper under the conscious mental levels, that is all that truly counts. I know what I am doing. Unconscious collective of the human race, know that all my blogs exist, and know what this incredible family has done to me and my life. As for staying off the site I told you, I retract this. It is me they are after, not you, they will not mess with you or your machine, it is me that was tracked when I charged the MIMI CD in 2008 at the local Wal-Mart, they from there could easily track the number and activate that one particular program when allowed to run on my system, to do all the things that it did, and sure enough, and this is exactly what indeed occurred. So do not fear going on the site of the greatest female recording artist of all time, as this will not effect any of you, as it did me, it is me this jerk off has been after all along since the middle nineties when he was too young to go after her yet, and he knew my hypnosis was about to restore my memories of so many things sooner or later.
Well, it is time to fix my din-din and relax with a movie, but first, my message to you Bob McDowell. You have to be the same BMD from the Haddonfield special education school back in 1972, do you remember the great awesome luscious Sarah Jacobson? If so, you need to get into archiving older 2006 and 2007 blogs that exist ion the blogger website of www.blogger.com/ .
Also, the odds of two Bob McDowell's of the same age that are both residing in Fort Wayne, Indiana, would be millions to one against this being a random chance occurrence. You must be my old school pal, and now the controller of the great United States FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION. Please Bob, try and help me, for old day and old friends sake, I am not a nut, and you know that. You of all peeps know that, we did lots of cool fun shit together, why would I make all this up or perpetrate a lie this fantastically gargantuan, it would serve no purpose at all? To this very day I laugh out loud many times, remembering how you called poor overweight imperfect Bruce, your “little dick-in-the-mouth”, don't bring me down Bob, Bruce never did, help me ol' buddy, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nicky is hacking me right now, at 1:17 PM his pacific time, or his Jason-Cali little teen pal hackers are that worship their wonderful god. This is all real Bob, help me please, let me sign off before this gets freaking ass worse.
The real proof is the endlessly displaying pacific-time that just refuses to stay reset to my time. HELP ME BOB, thank you in advance, and MC is not to blame, her is just stuck, her only crime is picking losers and rotten hubs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
WORLD LABORATORIES SEND-BACK-TEXT DATFILE:
CH-077-022011.624.55555555—SATURDAY MID-AFTERNOON
SUBTITIE: THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME----
SUBTITLE: THE EOITOME OF HARASSMENT,
INTERNET VERSION----
EXTRA ST: 'THE INVISIBLE POWERFUL DIABOLIS CALLIO'
BEGINNING TRANS-MI-SSION:
The entire 5-6 years of my blogging-career tells a major story that speaks for itself, and if the word AUTIOMATIC was ever invented for any one thing in this freaking world, it would have to be to describe that fact. This is a fact, no different than what one plus one has always equaled, and that it is just under eighty degrees now here in Fort Pierce, Florida, United States of America, Earth, Sol. Milky Way Galaxy, (USAESMWG), If anybody wants to really attempt to disprove this all mighty freaking story, I challenge anyone to try really freaking doing it, simply begin at any place, read both backward, or forward, from there, and realize that not even Einstein could do all of this and make up a hoax of this freaking ass magnitude, it even outdoes the hilarious Bruce and his cussing party, along with Joshua the synthesizer playing son of his, all listed under the (MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY), 'internet-hate-page' created by the great ('DJ DONNA SUMMER'), yes Donna was really out to get me Detective “DANIELS” of L&O, ONE WAY OR THE SWIFFER MOP OTHER, after-all, and WOW, 'that symbolism thing' again, U GOTTA FUCKING LOVE IT, HUH PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah Bruce, you and me know how to get angry at this old world, and since my entire home theater system and computer is all hooked together, I can download in analogue, and early this morning before retiring to my bed, I placed both your rantings, and mine from the early Bill Clinton years, onto a cassette tape for me to enjoy a laugh in the car when I feel like I need one; and usually this is all of the mother freaking time, BRAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Beginning around twenty minutes past eleven this freaking ass moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, old school pal, McDowell, the god of Cali along with the figure head overseer Mister Muscles Terminator Nohelp Buttwipe, attacked me SUPER ULTRA HYPER ASS FREAKING TIME, YO!!!!!!!! My video remote was struck hard suddenly and out of the fucking ass blue without warning or reason, and over and over again, and I rechecked and retested the fucking batteries and they are all the way green and fucking strong. I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY BACK IN MOTHER-FUCKING WHITE CITY WHEN I CAME BACK FROM THE PUBLIC LIBRARY AND REALIZED THAT MY FUCKING PERSONAL FUCKING VIDEO PROPERTY HAD BEEN AGAIN (TAMPERED WITH) BY THE KING/CALLIO/MCGUIRE CREW OF THE AWESOME POWERFUL (THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY), OR 'TAWF'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ever since they hacked into the remote, it is now a double remote, their remote, in the same way they that they now are also inside of my mother fucking computer, TOTALLY ILLEGALLY, but to the two peeps involved, this is an old song, and I do not think either of them know that I know shit, only I do. Still, HE is forcing HER in my humble opinion or IMHO if the old 'net-expression' still is used or applies anymore as it did in the nineteen freaking nineties. Some may be wondering why Scylla, the All Mighty SSJK picks patterns of men and lovers who are so controlling and dominating, but then again, the great wisdom of DICK WOLF and the television show “L&O” kicks in to show and re-explain it all in living displays of unfathomable color and sound. We all jack into this program and are here until our last dream where Morty Mortino hits the red Hendershodt “X” at our upper right corner of the 'hologram', and ends the program. When I attended the CAMP CHESAPEAKE in Northeast, Maryland, USAWESMWG, in July of both 1967 and 1968 for two weeks each time for a total month over the course of two separate years, there was a girl there named Louise Hendershodt. She was about the loveliest young teen that I had ever encountered, and all the boys were awestruck and like 'totally nuts for her', as kids today would describe it. One night in the cabin that I was in, it may have been the Algonquin Cabin, they all were named Indian names as this was an area of Native American folks long ago where the camp was presently standing at that era in time. This was before the TRINITRAIL of middle December in the coming year of 1969 that formed a perfect and absolutely gorgeous 'asterisk shape' as it expanded and filled the entire ass skies over East Camden County in new Jersey following my return from the experience or dreaming-interaction where the All Mighty Goddess Sarah-Stacey Krassle, had taken the special chain away from me and even told me that when IO come out of the experience, I should check my strong box where I kept it as I would come to find that it is gone in waking life now as well, and sure enough, it was, mind bending as this story appears to be. I legally attest to all of this, under voluntary full charges and penalties of libel and perjury should anyone ever prove me to be a fucking liar about any of this horrendous dog shit. Back now to the night at the camp cabin. A dream came on me after falling into a very uneasy sleep, I was miserable at that camp and hated every day there, counting hours down until it was time to book out of there both years. My counselor, Mack Kaiter was a first cousin of the then very famous news anchorman Lester. It was some time-set up, and I know this now, after-all, my high school, Haddon township High in Westmont, New Jersey, it is all there on the great FACEBOOK, and the same time when Nicky boy or ALD took me back to this place and then stole my time box or oblitron making it impossible for me to return back to where I lived in the year of 1996, 28 years away as a grown man in Williamstown, New Jersey. This causes me to relive this time in my life over and over again, and the movie “17-Again” was not amusing at all to me back last year or the one before that, whatever, you can all burn up in DOGFTOWN for a hundred Mininna-Kalpa, this is what about nearly 90 thousand years of Earth time would feel like in this dog-awful condition-interaction, or you would think of in your mortal minds reading this peeps, as “place”. Back now to the dreaming-interaction in the Algonquin Cabin at Camp Chesapeake. I was standing on the long boat dock leading from near the boat house where Marylou was in charge of, at the far end of it out where the water surrounds on 3 sides, left, right, and in front. Suddenly Louise the camp heart-throb was standing behind me and no one else was anywhere at all, the entire dream-scape was a clear bright blue sky, bright dark blue water, a long dock, and the two of us, and nothing else whatsoever. Then a powerful sonic boom went off. Then she grabbed me and held me close to her and asked what the sound was, and I told her that I did not know. Then it became higher and higher in pitch, sounding like a cross between the call of dolphins and whales. Then I looked up into the still very bright blue sky and a giant red “X” was hovering over the distant right side high above, from the shores near Aberdeen across the Chesapeake Bay. She pointed up with her finger and her finger grew like the nose of Pinocchio in the famous story. As it grew, it began nearing the red ex. It was a bright small chemtrail near to where the sun was beginning to get low and colorful in the skies. Finally she touched it and everything went totally black. No sound, no light, no nothing, but I was not awake, but instead was totally inside this interaction, you would all use the word of “dream”. This went on what seemed a very frightening hour or so and then I seemed to fall into a more normal nights sleep from this point, and when I gad awakened, some git bag kid had my hand in a pot of water, seeing if it would make me piss myself, a trick done quite frequently in summer boy's camps a lot, at least back in the nineteen freaking sixties. Long story short, this was a long time before windows or internet or anything at all like this. Still a moron like Bruce Cursor or anyone else can certainly draw the distinction here, right??????
My day trading business partner knows what's been done to my computer. He does not believe that this is what is happening on his awake level, but that does not bother me. As long as he knows it on his deeper under the conscious mental levels, that is all that truly counts. I know what I am doing. Unconscious collective of the human race, know that all my blogs exist, and know what this incredible family has done to me and my life. As for staying off the site I told you, I retract this. It is me they are after, not you, they will not mess with you or your machine, it is me that was tracked when I charged the MIMI CD in 2008 at the local Wal-Mart, they from there could easily track the number and activate that one particular program when allowed to run on my system, to do all the things that it did, and sure enough, and this is exactly what indeed occurred. So do not fear going on the site of the greatest female recording artist of all time, as this will not effect any of you, as it did me, it is me this jerk off has been after all along since the middle nineties when he was too young to go after her yet, and he knew my hypnosis was about to restore my memories of so many things sooner or later.
Well, it is time to fix my din-din and relax with a movie, but first, my message to you Bob McDowell. You have to be the same BMD from the Haddonfield special education school back in 1972, do you remember the great awesome luscious Sarah Jacobson? If so, you need to get into archiving older 2006 and 2007 blogs that exist ion the blogger website of www.blogger.com/ .
Also, the odds of two Bob McDowell's of the same age that are both residing in Fort Wayne, Indiana, would be millions to one against this being a random chance occurrence. You must be my old school pal, and now the controller of the great United States FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION. Please Bob, try and help me, for old day and old friends sake, I am not a nut, and you know that. You of all peeps know that, we did lots of cool fun shit together, why would I make all this up or perpetrate a lie this fantastically gargantuan, it would serve no purpose at all? To this very day I laugh out loud many times, remembering how you called poor overweight imperfect Bruce, your “little dick-in-the-mouth”, don't bring me down Bob, Bruce never did, help me ol' buddy, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nicky is hacking me right now, at 1:17 PM his pacific time, or his Jason-Cali little teen pal hackers are that worship their wonderful god. This is all real Bob, help me please, let me sign off before this gets freaking ass worse.
The real proof is the endlessly displaying pacific-time that just refuses to stay reset to my time. HELP ME BOB, thank you in advance, and MC is not to blame, her is just stuck, her only crime is picking losers and rotten hubs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TRANSMISSION:
Friday, February 18, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 076
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL CHAPTER 076
1:53 AM, SATURDAY, 19 FEBRUARY, 2K11
SUBTITLE: DUMMY-ME STRIKES OUT AGAIN
START:
It is only important that I know what is being said here, but there will be of course a small following now that will piece shit together, maybe not perfectly sir Bruce Allen Pennock, but the who am I to predict anything? All my predictions are all courtesy of the ultra-man, who of course has taken over this entire machine, and pacific time always insists on displaying no matter how often it is set and reset, or how many known current time and age firewalls and anti virus protections are downloaded, it is meaningless to the KING of the PIGLOPY.
Beginning after the hypnotherapy I received to try and restore memories in the middle nineties, he knew trouble was ahead based on what he does not ever want or permit for that matter, with me. The facts bear me and all this out no matter how many haters of MOUNTAINPEN or hate-pages that exist on the internet about me. Gee I wonder who is influencing all of this and had it all planned from a million mother sucking years ago to begin with, like-um- DUH!!!!????????? Child-net huh David Roth, yeah right, a child's mind would have seen all this if not directly involved in HIS bullshit since whenever. His physical age is about as meaningless, as Scylla's. There are a million kids that would do anything for their god, and hacking my system back in 2008, and again up here in the future in 2011, is no big deal, kids are the ultimate hackers and are the cutting edge kings and gods of this machine-game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUH. Wow am I stupid, and I fudge eating admit to it. Also, now I owe two apologies to my teen queen, the original one that I had recently recanted and on line to the world, as well as this one, for my total stupidity. When he was too young the first time around, he just quickly engineered events, and the second time was already there and waiting for me, with his hand literally around my throat.
Please accept this double bubble apology TQ, I can only put this crap together at one speed, mine, I am only another Bruce Pennock, you know that only too well, BEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for you, Mister Ed TNG, the plan is so simple, a child could figure it out. You proved to me that Christians are full of shit about your inability to move outside the normal patterns in three dimensions. So then why did you allow the so called plan of SSJKK to blow up in your face and permit the death on the cross of my 61st grandfather's uncle? Simple. It is all a game, and you could care less about the so called misleading teachings of your battle with Sarah-Stacey. We both know that you are madly in love with HER and have been all throughout infinity. You are unrelenting in your pursuit to destroy the only remaining possible line in this family, me, so you can go to top game level and win, if using a reference to a video game and computers of the current age may be drawn here. You will strike and try to break me, and I will bait you in until you cross the magic line and my proof is beyond disputer or argument by the largest skeptics club of Missouri. Yes, the expression is quite symbolic, right, in lieu of the postal system and their state abbreviations? Here is my proof that I will overtake you in this horrific game butt wipe. When the CHEMTRAIL bullshit began after I “called the cops” from my security station at Gaither Road in mount Laurel in New Jersey, USAESMWG in December of the year of freaking 1987, no one anywhere knew about this, or cared, not one soul. Every year, the graph chart has grown up to the place where one out of ten peeps that are even semi-educated now believe that this stuff is real and poses a health hazard to the citizenry to say the least. What you are doing with me, will cost you the love of your life, you had this one chance to have her and fool her for a short bunch of years, and buddy, you are blowing it real bad. Keep up the good work, Alaskan doggie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maggie will wake up, Rod, give her time, the huge next quake, like Chine in oh-eight is close at hand, and about to freaking strike, told you peeps!!!!!! I'll remind you soon that this blog exists!!!!!
As for Louise Hendershodt of Maryland, or 'Wiesel' from 1968: Did the man of North Carolina show you the future of the red ex, the way out of this program and off the Lawn Mower Man screen forever. Peace out.
BYE-BYE, THIS HAS ONLY STARTED NOW, UNLESS YOU GET THE TRUCK OFF MY MACHINE, sorry Ed Himacane, I was wrong back in time, but then, that is a major repeating pattern, with or without the 100 number roulette progression, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END:
1:53 AM, SATURDAY, 19 FEBRUARY, 2K11
SUBTITLE: DUMMY-ME STRIKES OUT AGAIN
START:
It is only important that I know what is being said here, but there will be of course a small following now that will piece shit together, maybe not perfectly sir Bruce Allen Pennock, but the who am I to predict anything? All my predictions are all courtesy of the ultra-man, who of course has taken over this entire machine, and pacific time always insists on displaying no matter how often it is set and reset, or how many known current time and age firewalls and anti virus protections are downloaded, it is meaningless to the KING of the PIGLOPY.
Beginning after the hypnotherapy I received to try and restore memories in the middle nineties, he knew trouble was ahead based on what he does not ever want or permit for that matter, with me. The facts bear me and all this out no matter how many haters of MOUNTAINPEN or hate-pages that exist on the internet about me. Gee I wonder who is influencing all of this and had it all planned from a million mother sucking years ago to begin with, like-um- DUH!!!!????????? Child-net huh David Roth, yeah right, a child's mind would have seen all this if not directly involved in HIS bullshit since whenever. His physical age is about as meaningless, as Scylla's. There are a million kids that would do anything for their god, and hacking my system back in 2008, and again up here in the future in 2011, is no big deal, kids are the ultimate hackers and are the cutting edge kings and gods of this machine-game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUH. Wow am I stupid, and I fudge eating admit to it. Also, now I owe two apologies to my teen queen, the original one that I had recently recanted and on line to the world, as well as this one, for my total stupidity. When he was too young the first time around, he just quickly engineered events, and the second time was already there and waiting for me, with his hand literally around my throat.
Please accept this double bubble apology TQ, I can only put this crap together at one speed, mine, I am only another Bruce Pennock, you know that only too well, BEG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for you, Mister Ed TNG, the plan is so simple, a child could figure it out. You proved to me that Christians are full of shit about your inability to move outside the normal patterns in three dimensions. So then why did you allow the so called plan of SSJKK to blow up in your face and permit the death on the cross of my 61st grandfather's uncle? Simple. It is all a game, and you could care less about the so called misleading teachings of your battle with Sarah-Stacey. We both know that you are madly in love with HER and have been all throughout infinity. You are unrelenting in your pursuit to destroy the only remaining possible line in this family, me, so you can go to top game level and win, if using a reference to a video game and computers of the current age may be drawn here. You will strike and try to break me, and I will bait you in until you cross the magic line and my proof is beyond disputer or argument by the largest skeptics club of Missouri. Yes, the expression is quite symbolic, right, in lieu of the postal system and their state abbreviations? Here is my proof that I will overtake you in this horrific game butt wipe. When the CHEMTRAIL bullshit began after I “called the cops” from my security station at Gaither Road in mount Laurel in New Jersey, USAESMWG in December of the year of freaking 1987, no one anywhere knew about this, or cared, not one soul. Every year, the graph chart has grown up to the place where one out of ten peeps that are even semi-educated now believe that this stuff is real and poses a health hazard to the citizenry to say the least. What you are doing with me, will cost you the love of your life, you had this one chance to have her and fool her for a short bunch of years, and buddy, you are blowing it real bad. Keep up the good work, Alaskan doggie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maggie will wake up, Rod, give her time, the huge next quake, like Chine in oh-eight is close at hand, and about to freaking strike, told you peeps!!!!!! I'll remind you soon that this blog exists!!!!!
As for Louise Hendershodt of Maryland, or 'Wiesel' from 1968: Did the man of North Carolina show you the future of the red ex, the way out of this program and off the Lawn Mower Man screen forever. Peace out.
BYE-BYE, THIS HAS ONLY STARTED NOW, UNLESS YOU GET THE TRUCK OFF MY MACHINE, sorry Ed Himacane, I was wrong back in time, but then, that is a major repeating pattern, with or without the 100 number roulette progression, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END:
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