My 40th birthday is on Sunday the 20th of Marching with Red Bottoms on!

I don’t really own a pair of Red Bottoms

My powers of sanctitude and beefs like salami, with NO BEER, and NO QUEER tomfoolery, that’s for sure, the speed, I want no more!

For sobriety, I implore (you to become Sober like me) no alcohol fantastically, a feat- my endeavor, and I like little Trevor, a shy boy, Randy’s offspring, he’s a good Dad and Dad is glad to have a cool close friend, my living on Baker Pond at home, it’s being Suspend, ed, but only for now, milking a cow with Chocolate Milk, I have 2 gallons per week- Lordy, help myself the cool Calcium and Casein protein, I’m pretty lean and skinny, with a big upper body, so not too shoddy, at this party where I dance funny pants concealing a Tool, never been swimming in the “Averte” pool — the Billiards with Blizzak snow-tires, I’m far from “retiring” hiring a renter of sailboats, I ail with my pale skin, blood flowing from within, to my Enlarged heart ticking tick-tock, tick-tock, with a book and Dad with his bass-fishing hooks, he yanks, reeling in a Tilapia, eaten by Aunt Donna — I LOVE YOU AUNT DONNA DONOHUE THANKS FOR READING MY WRITING, as this rubber flubber within my stirring soul is enlighting, like a lightning bolt, twenty-one Volts for molten lead, or how about Palladium instead, I read the prices of precious metals and Gold took a dive today, soon to be a silver bracelet, I left my Movado watch on my bed, not the bureau, instead, so how about this — I seal the prose-poem with a KISS108 to Arba Miha as she was Arbs108 on AIM, closed down for a while now… that’s a shame, since I had AIM: “Jeffrey Marquis” being to be who but me, my name in print with a signature JMarquis signature on stacks of steps of pages and CHECKS, through Pacilio Wealth Management and Merril-Lynch, investing is a cinch, for me, that Justine had the notion to refer to a part of me, AS PEE-PEE, its back and forth Motion! because it’s her I want to see, meaning so much, to me, and I regret drinking so much beer NEEDLESSLY now that I’ve found my sobriety, in 2016, Dancing in Space with Allah, brought to God I thank my ex-lover Justine Aragona- I miss her tranquility and collected braincells doing a good enough job, I remember she fell at home, and on the floor with her mom she sobbed…

Funny story, while she was on the floor with a stubbed toe, her vagina in the open air, I cared, enough to say “Justine your vagina is showing!” And Linda screamed “I’M HER MOTHER!” So feeling a little funny I laughed at the bluntness of its absurdity, and then Dan Justine’s step-dad said to me, “Linda really liked how you called it her ‘Vagina’” out of respect for her and her mom, Justine would sing me pretty songs on KISS108 with a pecker on the cheek, a peck – I mean – that was very WEAK my joke, a helium balloon I poke, with my Brother — he calls my Dad as “POPS” making me LOLLY SO JOLLY with a joke I poke the girls on-screen, in great shape, big breasts and their bodyfat very LEAN like the track-meats from the Deli, I take Delight when I might, once again, make love all night, come the morning sunrise I AM NOT A RETARD, I KEEP IT HARD, the sun from above, the soap I would use, this before the luxury soaps, was Dove, recommended by a Mother of another- this being Justine’s mom, she cried when I played her a song, being on YouTube “Hum – Stars” that I went very far, and reaching beyond God, I prodded her innards to an inert behavior, Justine was my Savior, to savor the flavor of what she did well — picking out Bubble Rings, while wearing the tight strings, the things — THE THONGS — to pull out (…) my dot-come Blogs, been around so many years, writing about my Disabilities and Handicaps brought me to tears, having recovered enough and not having (Mannie) her fears, I’m feeling she’s Divorced and open to the Spring season’s sunny seasoning on the turkey, me smirking, with an inkling of an ink well, spray paint on the walls, tagging my Ming Blue, this is all for used, like a chantily lace, I pull out an Ace, from my painted-tan deck the halls to the Ming Blue Balls, I joke, I refrain, from being stricken with hip-pain, like the injury to me and my brain, my brain and I, do I see eye-to-eye, I look at the double images choosing the one on top, recommended by the vision doc, with Doc Marten’s at Saint John’s High School, the people I surrounded myself with were all so cool, so popular, at one of the cool-tables for lunch, the “Chicken Club” packed a punch, so back up, back off — leave this to peruse my www.jeffreymarquis.com and http://alwayschillen.blogspot.com

YouTube for songs, or an XM radio, I steal the show from who you know, driving slow and Sober 2016 I swear by 19+ for the girls of my world, mental hospitals astounded at the plentiful female asses, adjusting my glasses and pleasured erections, under a doctor’s inspection, and a Sheik Razor in the shower during night-time hours, for the most Part, in my hair, Dad’s haircuts have Mom stare, near the steps in my Apartment, eating Mentos and watching that movie “Memento” with Mom, singing in her Subaru, cometh hither all of you, my readers, the vaginal bleeders of once a month, using their mouth, I might mount them one week or so past, I get that GREAT ASS ON THAT GIRL IN DECEMBER! NOVEMBER! SEPTEMBER! HER HEIGHT, HER HAIR, THAT PRETTY FACE, I REMEMBER …to tickle a funny bone with a beating heart, I remember being disgusted by the unhealthy smell of Justine’s occasional fart, in my room, my 40th birthday is very soon, eating Reese’s ice-cream with a slender spoon, in the love-making position, playing with an Erector Set on a Saturday when I celebrate Cinco De Mayo free of alcohol — I made the call, to quit the drinking, it controlled my thinking, about savoring Mom’s Sutter Home I’d steal, her not making a big deal, but not okay with Dad, he told me my drinking was bad, now having quit the booze, so as not to lose, my Dad is very Glad at this 2016 sobriety, where I attempt to be a millionaire through hundreds of Bitcoins- it stirs the stirrups along my Loins, at the zoo- for you- we pay the fee and stroke the elephant’s facial-elongation so perfectly, and gently, be gentle, because you see my writing and I will see, if I continue writing so brilliantly, so jovially, showing disregard for a girl who had my babies! OR MAYBE SHE HAS HAD ABORTIONS, ON PURPOSE, SO PURPOSELY, her alcoholism so willy-nilly!

Nails sharp as fuck, a chicken makes a “clucking”-sound the dogs at the Pound, and the ample lunch-meats I eat, but one slice as a time, drop a dime at any time, be it day or be it night- I don’t have a flashlight, here, so near, come closer my clothes in a plastic bag, made with polymers from my Dad, my fortune is being had, with him, when I felt a vim, to keep my 51% of the crypto-earnings, him unknowing but learning, the potential of encrypted funding, with buns in the oven and buns on Baywatch — I’d like to relax with a Rolex caked on my first, but first a car — to drive it to Dr. Candido, he’s very far, away, as I’d like to listen to the song “U2 – Stay” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGAOstUIhpU

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