I like older women, too, but not by much, just only a couple years maybe, and soon will be my 40th birthday! March 20th!

My longtime and long-lasting love for Laurie, she’s the one who stands straight upright, and close to me- so let’s BE, her and I, that Her: always beautiful, a heart for me Within I beckon, her tall height aloudly cheering “DON’T COME NEAR ME!” — I kid, I joke, her mind knowing that on Facebook I could repeatedly click “Poke” in the former days when I was premature to getting laid, in my bed, with imagined-head, coming from a couple of ladies, my age, and a bit younger, for many girls born after me I hunger, like Justine, my Queen, and previously a Teen, my drinking came between, Us, when her and I in the sheets so neat, laden on the mattress, and washing my hair with Finesse, that’s all there (!!!) and not falling out, yet… not for decades to come, like Dad’s black hairs atop his skull, this writing I do (for Donna) isn’t DULL, like the knives here, in the kitchen- I put them back, thanks to Xanax- not having a panic-attack, with Russia= rushing troops in along the Ukrainian border, I once was an alcohol-nips “hoarder”- oh who but me… while I now see full Sobriety! =)

Easy cometh with Hayleigh’s comet, and Mrs. H. Noel, hiding under a thick shell, her perfume I would smell, the sweetie scents so well and pleasant — me while glamorously driving nimbly quick to The Sole that’s far and in my car- a Subaru Legacy that this writing I’m doing a lot of, it’s the best of me, for all to see, with a laptop hap-top ho-ho-ho this is how I write such entrancing prose, oh don’t you know, for those who read, at Saint John’s I had Mr. Mead, the hockey coach, my best friend stowing “The Roach” of joints abroad, my WRX had no “mods” a la engine upgrades- contrasted with large wheels, I watch my Mom “dig her heels” — not letting me step out the front door, the alcohol I would always crave more, with Jenn Morey who worked at Zorba’s I would sip the Samuel Adams — have at them (!!!) the drinkers the stinkers, the pathetic drunks who would see me being mostly healthy and wise, wondering where the treadmill be… at first- Then later on I gained too much weight… to wait for my next beer, that I’d only have 2 of them, so as not to pilot my vehicle fragrantly, a bit “buzzed”- I’d had enough of the fumbling with keys, dropping the tunes while drinking cranberry juice, healthy for the urinary system, and not pissed- but my parents, I MISS!

So much with a crutch of small amounts, Tobacco, with seemingly healthy lungs, at lunch, the niggers hung, in the days of old, when Slaves were Sold at auction (Ebay: slaves) this inner hunger of words I crave the dot-com posts, at least almost most, not putting up smut, a candle inserted, oh Holy — her buttered toast in the morning when I’m sick of turning, the pages on my shelf, filled to the brim, an awful whim- a whip of Massa’s that’ll be cracking crackpipes on Negroe’s backs, the whips, I broke my hips! To the tune of a morning Zoom- I chat with family on my laptops when I seem, talking clearly and loudly as the sound of my voice roams so happily — joyous with Wayne Marquis and Deborah Marquis, the two most dear to me!

I love you Mom and Dad, and I love you Aunt Donna too!

Not having been with a smile for a while, I pick up my phone and talking to them I am in “The Zone” of pleasant conversation, sweeping the Biden “nation” of all nationalities, putting nigger-fear in me- with mine, my dancing is so wonderfully fine, Ballroom or Step into the Bathroom, to wash your hands, so thick with sand, And, to the Desert we will go- on Camel’s backs, oh don’t you know… At this time when I’m not thirsty, or thirsting for wine, this very Thursday, I have come out to play to the tune of a flowing flute as my TV is on “mute”- and the radio too, I hear my flingers tapping and clapping on keys, making me smile, having such fun with my readers, who see, the movie Saw so horrific, and Splendor, Terrific, the sick mind of a madman, Robert DeNiro in the movie “The Fan” that and, an ending so dear, the end of my Document is near, as to leave you a tuning disaster for Paul Walker, Dead, what a shame The Fast and Furious actor saw his end!

Drive safe everyone and be careful on slippery surfaces at this time of year, the end is near! And here it is as I shake up my soda can to emit Fizz on The Fuzz with a Keyboard Duster “Buzz” goes the bomb-le bee, but not me!

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