Read about my bad, evil enemies causing my awful injuries on my

Florid ambiance in an Ambulance with doctors kneeling, do you know the joy I was feeling, while referring to myself, without any reefer feeding my spirited soul, calling myself “Joyous Jeffrey” the vapid nurses jerking out my hoses and giving me a “manual release” my spermy-wormies were stolen from me to inseminate girls all the same, me telling you their names, Allyson with an AK-47 and Tiffany with a Spliff from me, having hidden my offspring, while singing praises of themselves for aborting my/their Fetuses — I’m calling on all you jerk Jesuses of Christ’s name it needs no refrain I’ve mentioned many times “Parthenogenesis” hearing an Echo coming from the Ecco The Dolphin play-through in a fabled underwater fantasy, so are you alone or with me?

Ecco The Dolphin on Sega Genesis:  If you want to know what’s up with Jesus Christ, Google: Parthenogenesis, I’ve already mentioned, and me not believing Jesus is God, I consider him at least “my friend” for he has seen his end, on Easter or a few days before it, he was the Jewish Culprit being put to death in a painful way, the mares, the horses eat hay I say to my #1 favorite Minister, Anne Skinner she is not a sinner, cold in the winter but Justine Aragona’s and my own body-heat exchanged and on her I laid all night long, playing YouTube songs like “Xerces” it was her who I would see, her way, but to our dismay, others caused our brains to malfunction at the roadway junction, our bodies and brains hardly functioned!

Tempted by my Tantric desires, I choose not to play with fire, so call the MMJ Medical Department in this “Averte” Apartment, where something is up and my enemies are going down, spent my cash in town, of Charlton Mass, play the game and I decide to pass, through Heaven’s Gate, for it’s not too late, to get in on that Holy sup’m sup’m, a Modest Proposal: Justine Aragona if you’re with a mate now, I urge his Disposal, down the drain, Runaway teens jumping in front of railway trains, here or at the WSU Gym, I have always felt the Vim, Voracious in Tantric places, tight holes abroad and above, me singing like a dove, with these broads, I give my applause, Wayne and Pop, Freddy would wipe with a Mop, and Mom, staying relatively sober, her time with the Bacardi Rum in Bermuda is done, for it was no fun, Dearest Delirious Deborah hollering, falling on the bathroom ground and hurling on a vacation, she seeked Inebriation with the intoxicating evil liquid, her notes of singing come across in her spattering to the camcorder, “Film It!”

Justine’s Mom on-screen the 3rd-input was seen, invaded by a stiff member, a “Goon” on my brother’s favorite online forum, the SA, separate from my many essays, perfecting my craft, swimming in Baker Pond to a brown painted raft my parents own, floating atop the aqua, free of salt, the sodium, I have a battered Cranium, like Justine who was older than the legal age of eighteen, and a half, she accepted my staph, not her first, virgin-fuckers are the worst, take George away in a hearse, no one was sad, a hard life he had, Grandpa, neutral followers of his cancer at the Wake I saw his dead body, wearing a suit, but I was aloof, his awful alcoholism in the family, I don’t drink any liquor, so good luck framing me, like many photos here, and my paintings, Pierre the Charlton resident wanted me to perfect my craft, and helping me with the brush-strokes he was someone special, older, something splendid came from his studio, a self-portrait, don’t you know, it came out good, and upon my marriage to Justine Aragona, she will get an intimate piercing on her hood, speaking of which I jumped on the Leicester cop’s hood of his cruiser, being told to get into my car then driving, I banned him and he is the loser, for I have recovered a la Traumatic Brain Injury and shattered hip, do you want to see ???

November 2nd, 2004, I have so many injuries, more and more, but not swooning Jenn Morey, at the nearby Lake Morey, but of Zorba’s in Charlton, on the rim of a Magrarita they cake it in salt and corn-chip Fritos, a sale at the mall to Justine I was super tall, and with her love of Master Wok, I choose not to use the treadmill for a short stroll, but why? I sigh, as the fucks here screw with my possessions, I plan on teaching them a powerful lesson, I don’t want to be screwed with, the dumb cunts here, they screwed it, extinguished like a flame, they act different towards me every  day, so I FEAR I’M BEING FRAMED!

My laptops and three dot-com websites are hacked by my enemies with their jobs at Google!

My phone is hacked by my Mom’s friend at AT&T, and my Dad’s employee of my Charlton Federated Church started a new “French River” INNOVATIONS to confuse people about my Mom’s cellphone company through “French River COMMUNICATIONS” that my voice was tape recorded when I was aloof to my enemies’ “Plan” even when they caused my many injuries in 2004 when they demanded I kill myself after they threatened me so badly, taunting me, telling me that I would be raped, which really rang a note with me as I’ve been raped by my gay Saint John’s English teacher when he gave me and a friend crystal meth, that I didn’t really want because I just wanted to get high on marijuana or something trippy!

I feel that hate for my enemies, believing I’m under attack!

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