Whisk the batter and then stroke the paintbrush much better, to get-atter with the swing of a Bat and Matt was fat, but twiddle-doo I want my lovers remaining true and to me the simple curiosity, what it feels like for a girl, go why my world and work with a twisted fork of yesteryear when I have no fear, or any fears, to be true to my parents who are so “Dear” with my John Deere stocks, I drank at the “Loft” so far back in my teenage age, of Francis Sage, and who but Bob Saget, the here heterosexual, not a faggot, smoking butts in Europe, I have a desire to Elope, with a Priest, Justine had yeast, to bake her bread, when all has been said to Justin Bieber, to be said, not my Brother who doesn’t take my reaches out, when I would love to fish for Trout, all and about, simply reeling the big bass lunkers lubricated from within, realing to realize my investments-  on Wall Street I have been in, to the tick of the tick tock louse, to buy my own house, and get in yours or flea to the better days of LINE ‘EM UP BATTER!  and to get after, going to the edge, Jenner and his Hedge, as in funds I depend on my Mum! and buying her roses, oh I suppose’s, with Slurpy drinks and girls in pink minks, their coats, possibly eating oats to float in a boat, a Ranger boat, me feeling no anger, while eating Bangerz (Miley Cyrus) and mashed potatoes from a Black plantation, with no reservations, oh the land, I seek upon a mountain-top with my mopping tip-top from the absolute mid-way to feel the refrain of 2pm that’s MID-DAY, but NOT MAYDAY, as I play with my words, sounding rampant absurd, I’m not going anywhere, because I care, so deeply for you, Justine Aragona, my hunny buns of funny noises, she would message boys, in Boise Delaware because I care about the I DO HOES when they don’t deny me, saying absolutely NO, at the heavy metal refinery, milking Palladium when I want them, to do their best in pleading to me, “Stay off that LSD!” I don’t do any drugs! ☺