Twirly birds in the sky, and buy, my Brother Justin Marquis his artwork on Etsy site! He often draws birds and I’m an artist too! PRIVATE LESSONS!

The weight of a Freight Plane coming and going off… the train and in THE RAIN your hail-full stones in the snow of ice droplets when the English girl says curiously, “What’s the haps?”  Taking off John Deere caps indoors inside the inside of the seamstress dress with a 24 karat chain and Worn, to wear everywhere-  like at work, with the bosses and stopping for gasoline at Hess-  spilling the oil is a big mess so we don’t want that, I bought my Grammy a “Trucker hat” like that is that and where to be seen, in the mirror and showing abdominals when I am so LEAN with a twisty tip on the upper-lip of a chin up bar that work your arms to here and there, while stretching them so far, at the gym, and with a whim, of plentiful excitement on a Peloton trainer — JCAMBER was “Johnny Titties” with over a 1200 SAT’s that I remember he would sit next to me, my hutch, at lunch, not throwing any punches of Kool-Aid when I have it MADE — it up to you in the back-seat when I stop at Burger King for a tasty treat of a milk-shake, when we’ve gone to a Tanning Salon and the “Fake Bake” takes the cake-  blowing out candles to torch the wicks, in the Saint John’s showers after Phys. Ed. we never looked at each other’s dicks, like Charlton, MA with the whisky Hicks playing pins on paraffins enchanting the most of the viewers-  spewing some soda, all like “Did he just say that?” And I fail to speak (my treble voice) but not high-pitched or “high” at any time of the week, for MMJ-dependents are questionably, “weak!”  To the beat of a drum as Sandy hums, cleaning my Apartment, and I’m apart from the messy “Residents” at this humble abode, “Sport” is the mode, the setting, we should all be letting, our cars REDLINE to peak arr-pee-emm’s (RPM’s) of cylinders cycling, with the Notorious Lance the endurance “Doper” who lost his trophies, for the Tour de France is now meaningless, when I keep my 2 LIVESTRONG bracelets on day and night, without them, Oh that would be a sight of seeing as Urkainians are fleeing, and needlessly-  I stay on the “Averte” property!  Not having driven in recent years, or not drinking alcohol-  for so long to the whisper of the curfew of going to bed at midnight-  and 9-month pregnant women are quite a sight of singing with the pulse-monitor blinking, beeping once every second (slightly more) when I really want to Score, a home run with my Hunny-Bun Justine Aragona — her moaning would drone on and on until I spent my last 2-cents of Princeton Tuition for those who’ve been accepted, while no kid should be “neglected” as per a couple of floozy drunk parents and coming up with excuses, like “We would have picked you up at soccer practice but having been drooling on the floor with Christian Adore, he drove, he dove into the warm water — and passing in the pool after school — I’m not a fool!  You tool!  With a wrench of a wife-  she’s a part of my life, my lifey-  with my WIFEY!  “Your wife is your life!”  Unto all the married men when they sign a Valentine’s Day card with a Cross pen or pencil, to need an ornament, a Christmas stencil — remember those cut out, and with scissors I get “SLIZZURD!” In a blizzard with safe Snow Tires that I have already retired from working a Corporate job with the Colonel Booth, he’s missing his teeth, shining white with dark, black skin, his love for his family and slave ancestors-  this be his “Kin” at SJ within the walls of our Catholic High School a la Shrewsbury Mass, I am seeking a Vermonter “lass” at last, that V-day is soon, milking breasts into a spoon, to feed the baby sans sucking, oh motherfucker, the chickens are clucking, the clack of my ass crack this shit is so whack, like what?  You put what in your butt?  Some cigar tube, without any lube, pegging my prostate, and paying taxes on what I make $$,$$$,$$$ in TD Bank and an official Bank of France, I have rips in my pants, WITH NO ASH BURNS! YEAH I DON’T SMOKE CIGARETTES!

I don’t smoke butts!

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