I have so many Bitcoins now worth: $39,039.50 each!

A tasty treat for you to eat along the Camisole Princess of American taxpayers, just ask my lawyers

Reeking and dissections of sections, and come seek it to try me soon: on the 20th of March, FOR MY 40’th birthday, you see me? Coming around the cuff on the Atari machine, on your flatscreen to be seen, come all come utter your last utterance to stop!

So stop and praise Dan plus Stan on “South Park” the new BMW with a handicapped placard, Justine Aragona had because of her TBI and broken leg, her booty I’d peg, my little piggy with a jiggle in her belly and booty, once and again, she was my best friend, best girlfriend in my life, I want her to be my prized Wife for the rest of my life, to breathe life into, pouting a kiss on her lips up top on her “Head” instead tonight because I’ve had a long day, and I just say “Hey! I want it DEEPER, your cute little mouth with a peck on the cheek, and send me nekkid pics I deleted the videos of her tonsils on my big Tool their “Sober”-song I heard today

Racks on racks on racks on racks- Ranking them in order and raking them in to a Rake and Run for Fun with The Minister on people’s lawns abroad with the prod of a fork, you dorky dork at Porky’s salon and sauna — genius, a spa as the toddler crawls up the walls of the museum at night, so right- so hug me tight, MOMMY, the Debbie to be seen- akin the keen Queen running rampant with a Recycling pamphlet!

Going out on tour, and for the world’s poor, the inept, kept in Debt at Mobil 1 depot to deny me “pot” the Delta-9 that’s so much more ephemeral than a glass of wine, my Mom is a drinker of the white grapes, with my voice on tale, having been recorded in 2004, I implore the declarations of a smile art “self-portrait” I nailed, and wearing a Cross, a salad I won’t have to “Toss” for a Boss 429 engine, 429 Bitcoins in my Ledger, pushed upon the edge, at space, God’s universe, my abs don’t hurt, as they are strong, and I like Justine’s thongs, so clean, she was my Queen, to laugh at Charlie Sheen, bereft, like my muscles of a chest-  being nursing from a Nurse’s breast, to a beast, so get off your baked buns of Yeast in the Northeaster winter weather, my invested nature in Tesla, GameStop, John Deere, and WeatherTech floor liners, one liners, in the Winterseason, keep the floor mats handy!

Valencia Victoria and “Secrets” of Sheik’s who I can use those giant condoms them on my big one, Unit 1, with two nips up top left and right with the legs in the air, or bend over this Princess chair, swish your hair to the leglong thighs of signs from the audience, in a theater or Talking to Peter with the Jehovah’s Witness masses, I don’t find little girls attractive, yes, not a double breasted jacket in their undeveloped chests, just them two nips and flatlining hearts abroad that I see suds from scrubbin’ bubbles on my sink, in the bathroom downstairs, I wrote a Will with stock-market Dan for the Heirs of my small Bitcoin fortune on the dot-com when I saw “Elon” proceeding to become his early on best buddy, he said I was his favorite outside of his family, a tattoo on Tiffany Desrosiers’s baby — is it mine ????? I wonder but never having had inserted intercourse with the “Tiph” of yesteryear-  and MY STOLEN SPERM, she used it to have a baby (like Allyson Hodgkins did, my kid!) I fear “The Set-Up”

This after “Their Plan” to injure me, they did-ly: https://jeffreymarquis.com/2019/10/15/1517/

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s