Winkle cricket on the wicker furniture and a FOO-TAWN sitting out on the lawn, I’d almost always mow in my mode of strutting left leg first, right foot then after with the F-69 Jets singing with “Bennie” the pianist playing The Greasy Gringo at the beachside bar with tight Bikini dame to no shame, running and bouncing like a Cross-Country (or Track) singer hitting high notes and the Lowe’s Furniture for Aunt Donna who needs a bookshelf, with a copy of the Will Ferrell movie, “Elf” to dance and Trot with my enemies “Plot”- “Their Plan” to have me drive drunk, when the last beer was a Sundae Sunken Ship with cherries on top, of the Flop: The Titanic’s tantalizing oven mitts across the Border in the South, no longer Cussing with my mouth, inhaling the steamed broccoli- all for me (and Allah) in the utmost roast of High Hugh Hefner of her’s and her’s and her’s the Bunnies in the PB mansion, all Skippy PB&J’s with Recess in a pool of winky-winky smirking, the girls of the working world “Twerking” and “Working a Jobbs” at Apple, MacBook Pro with an OSX system, operating in the utmost on my shattered left hip in 7 pieces!
All of this was in 2004 when I couldn’t have any more (of the ICU morphine) to take my pain its refrain with the awful sensations undertaking The Nation of National Jeffrey Marquis, a simple young taxpayer and female Booty layer, laid in silence with a beep-beep behind you, that car machine that’s been damn near rear ending your backside bumper, “The Insurrection Trump’ers” with Trumpets resounding flute-like sounds, officer on the ground, obscene scenes of The Sound of Violence song from “The Social Network” I saw in theaters two times! (As a FB lover poster product of a $40m Ferrari on my walls- big balls for me to undertake a big investment, The Bitcoin(s) of the Divine, a Ryan I went to Saint John’s with, playing Soccer with a World Cup for the balls like I mentioned at the aforementioned and utmost wisdom of my kind, the SAT’s scorers at the school of me being fairly cool, and popular, in the populous of us clean-cut boys in ties and sport coats wearing Dockers and Doc Marten’s for a fine Pardon, oh Please, have you seen these double-vision spectacles, me making a spectacle out of ducking my head, so my demented eyes will ALIGN, ALRIGHT? I see two of everything, as per the disarranged brain inside my Catastrophic Cranium repaired, almost, all the way- Justine took me there to the edge of space, my place, and with God Himself The Father of His universe, long after I left Worcester State University, not having graduated, the Literature classes I hated — them, again, like whirring of the vacuum on a smoothy-smooth floor, and FACE TO THE GROUND, hearing the sound of sirens but coming to a silent silence of a slice of Quesadilla at Taco Bell when the sweaty cooks would emanate a smell of bad body orders at the counter, of viewing my maybe 100 people peeping this dot-com (1 of 3 websites I run) I ran with trouble lurking in Middle-Eastern countries, their counties, I’m counting viewers on this website, and with many in the past couple days, this sudden urge to craft mesmerizing poetry, I have seen, and I’m not being mean, if you know what I relay to you, The Reader, shopping at Duane Reade’s in the city of New York, to bend a fork and slit steak with the pointy serrated knife, this is the life, to dine with such fine company at TSP when I took a tinkle in the stinky Men’s Room, the beautiful and classy babe my age- she followed me in and she presented herself as a Sin, I came within her backdoor cavity, a la my big MAGNUMS by Trojan, and I don’t want that to happen again, as I love to snuggle up IN BED instead of bent over a toilet, to say “LET” and “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” So for relief of the pipe I implore, LET’s go sit in her car and this after, we already took it far — IN THE STALL, LAST FALL — the handicapped me with my jeans down, “To Be” with her wearing fur, a coat of excess dollars, in pink, it a Mink in mint condition but needing freedom of her shoulders, tithes like boulders: small ones, the smallest over-the-shoulder-BOLD FONT handlers at the Zoo of perky penguins doing a scuttle,but this is all a secret I’m telling and in the men’s room it was swelling my unit, it smelling when all was done at the end of the night, our time together, she was like “I just might buy you an Entree and an Appetizer, and TO-GO!” So you can eat it at home think of the Dome she administered unto me, happy as can be- as I’ve never been with a more-beautiful lady (but not “Of The Night”, Right?) Zero whores I’ve ever been with, with the exception of a few, I had to ‘make due’ is the date with my mates, all flirty females, savoring my proverbial “flavor” of flakes that are Dandruff as I don’t ‘play rough’ with any love-partners, who take me far, and Farther! OH FATHER, FORGIVE ME, I DID IT WITH A GIRL IN A SPOT TO PEE, in, a County Morgue- toe up, tagged, that bitch I “bagged” a dime of the red, red wine until everything was fine (and found) and Dandy where I would be receiving free treats, for fabulous eats, of Sirloin meats at “Emerald” I never wrote about or worked there, slicing cold-cuts without a care, and shoes showing wear, and a half-inch “Lift” to balance my behavior, God is the Savior, me worshipping Him, I feel such Holy Vim, to Create text for you the Reader, without any “hate” for those who voted: Biden after living in the “Den” of my house, clean without a louse, the lice, you better think twice, about picking up your phone and causing my cell to EL-OH-EL at the Eatery of Sbarro pizza-crust junk with too many carbs, the fence around the Shitter is barbed, and Wire, as I’m ready to retire- no jobs for me but to write — this is all for me — to fine-tune the Ruins of The Burnt Down Trees of the Amazon dot com, spending time viewing vitamins to order, and after mowing the dot-com, the clock ticks on, as thyme comes to an end when I have no friends but Dana and Dan “The Man” of Wall Street kitty-corners my request for more Bitcoins, that was my order, and along the Ranks, that pussy- it STANK to grill the beef of marinated flavor, her 69 I favorite!
What’s in your Online Favorites?
My three dot-com’s and 2 other blogs, I shit logs . txt with my visitors, of HTML viewers- some my pursuers, below NYC Boulevards, the Sewer being Sue the thread into the needle and zip up your fly, as it’s time for me to say goodbye dear viewers, there couldn’t be any fewer, with a fever for Beavers at the Baker Pond Dam that comes to a trickle, needing wooden branches to VAMOS! Aqui, Aqui, the elegant Spicks I hate those Sons of Beaches in trenches, the Trench-coats are on in middle-school “Mafia’s” with Mama Mia, what about Tess and Tia, the sisters my age, viewing my Facebook page, and as friends online, I would have loved to be “Intertwined” inside of them, pants to be hemmed, being of 34-length my legs, they shrunk- but preciously I was almost able to Dunk the B-Ball as GHRP-6 made me so TaLL, for a nurse to shrink my pegs down bottom, walking surfaces like Golum, longer legs and eating eggs and for breakfast when I would work at my Dad’s amazing business, amassing Polymers plastics in barrels, once going to a bar before arriving for the day- This Jill was “justchillen” coming into work drunk, that she was hot and could be with a Big Dick Hunk, but having come into work with a buzz, she was fired, and too young to Treat Retire of “YOU WAN FWAI RAYECE” ??? “YOU WAN ROW MEAINE” ??? Ember absorbs me, and in this time I’d love to recline, with a hot babe cruising and cascading along the Esplanade up top by the hills, along with NO FRILLS (!!!), stepping outside gives me the Chills this season, for this is the reason I went to “Chili’s” so much- the bartenders would give me an added buzz, being liquor paid-for and Courtesy of the Staff my drinking 2 beers was so after the AFT, then swimming to a Raft in the ocean that has all the “motion” to dismiss, leaving you with a Kiss108-degrees, on the Salton Seas, keeping your smooches in my clutches on the Manual Transmission in the Far Car, farting exhaust, Decibals measures so as not to be TOO LOUD (!!!) the illegal exhaust in a vehicle, I have seen it all, hearing the Rice-Burners leaving tread-marks on pavement, engraved Cement in the Cemetery Moratorium with massive amounts “uf” momentum to treat the Tombstone right, every single night and Memorial Day, with Willie May- the black, once being attacked, of an White-Power Establishment of Incorporated Kids popping off caps of bleach, for each, in Kool-Aid come Jonestown in another country — I forget which one, it be… — a skinned ham, all throughout the land, of ever-loving matrices, and always say please, keep reading me and keep tuned, turning heads, what’s on my laptop instead?
I saved this image from the web:
I love my Apple computer, but it’s hacked by my enemies who caused my many injuries in 2-thousand and four, that you can read my www.wrxtbi.com if you want to know more! =)