
38.4 million in Bitcoin, see the grilled Sirloin, without the cheese, but only if you PLEASE, my sweetest of the money bunch in a crunch- doing sit-up’s off the cuff, with links in ode to the Sirloin prince, his Chinks in a mysterious grill, and paying the substantial sum to some of the Susans of American, Taxpayer- right here with not much fear of Russia’s 10X nuke, my sink, I do not PUKE, the gagging of the elder hags with baggy jeans, their wrinkly skin is this, with bags of Coach, under her eyes, my habits of getting big on the web, poke a Jebb and my Mom, my dearest Mother, named Deb…
But that’s enough to be said about my Birth’s symphony conductor, helped my the Doctor!
Or skip a parental reference to my brother as he is one another with his psychedelic art, a rifle in his arsenal, not too tall, brother Justin, ignoring my calls and VM’s — a “psychonaut” he is one of them, the many who munch mushrooms and broom the downstairs ROOM, with the whirring vacuum, a Black and Decker PECKER WRECKER, typing on the keyboard cometh fingertips tall and tapping with hedonistic pecks, left bereft- of womanly touches, pulling up my britches— respecting women with their pink cookies, to poke? Not here at “Averte” with my Swiss Navy lotion option to watch girl’s in their 20’s and 30’s on this line being that I haven’t driven or drinking SOBER2016 not a sip in 2 years of questioning my wealth that I’ve always told Dan, INVEST MY MONEY IN BITCOIN!, to my best short story “Elegance” http://www.alwayschillen.com/elegance.htm writing a wrist with LOVE written in a tattoo on Jessica Tocci’s wrist that she said felt fine with not much pain of the needle and of the vibrating with a whirring-noise of striper bass in the ocean with a wrist-ile motion, with the movement of my arm, gripping hand, so when having a “Sex on the Beach” be careful of the Sand, inhabiting your crevice with no gripes of an in-tune Singer so silly- with a “wet willie”, to see the Sunlight, but not present at night, on XMAS morning, the introduction of Santa’s Sleigh with my freeing boxes of the wrapping paper, I will feast upon the meat of a pig, a beast, turkeys need Yeast, from the Detection of a Gyno’s Inspection of my permanent record with Jeffry and Jeff M. I want to grow because my pants need a hem, as my legs are always shrinking, from a Doc’s injection, Trojan MAGNUMS bring the overies total protection from the embryo’s Insemination, with my U.S. National Anthem of “I tizz of thee” my lust for not Tiph anymore, but Justine Aragona, I want her for more, in my life- about the quest for her as a WIFE!
I sure do wish, to kiss, and her I miss, with a seal of approval, I approve of Valerie and her choice mate, her fate, not Fat at all, and standing tall, I pray for her Dad, Rev. Jim Chase in Heaven, even, my calm Minister over many lunches, sometimes Dinner at a restaurant, it’s my Justine Aragona who she met him at lunches and Church Services with 70+ collected Pamphlets, at my home, but “Averte”- I’m in the zone, to drone, and on to go home, I drone, again, writing with a Mont Blanc pen, to Mother Hen, but only when… I come to the highest peak, once so weak in the ICU, play Hootie, and wearing a Hoodie, I be where the BLM matters go sour, me moody- Doge to the Moon! Sometime soon, me the investor with millions USD in “crypto-CURRENCY” !!!!!
Stagnant efforts to arise in the morning, I rest, with a pinned chest, once on Estrogen- my crooked doctor’s advice, The strife of having to do so many pushup’s a night, I just might… dart feeling minimal [ I am a minimalist. ] with my right wrist getting worked up- righty tighty getting “a Pump” from one-imagined Stamina, I could Save my images with the rest of them, sleeping late and felling once Minimal hate, those who sealed my Fate, to nearly die and becoming So injured, Then recovered, most of the way but not all, my legs are small— yeah I’m not as TaLL at the least of my worries, When can I make them longer? Singing a sweet song, Or— with discrepancy for the Creepers on FB, like me, I was a teaser, before the film when I skim the Milk of Silk swine without whining, and instead, SHINING, The Shining was winning gin in Theaters of them MySpace “creepers” notorious for buying Gifts — my $30 to post on Walls — MY BALLS, my nether natural Nadules, pumping spermy-wormies into crevices, NOT AT ALL!
Bereft of sexy SEX its intercourse of the road, waiting to implode with Russia’s 10X nuke, I pun a puke in the vitamin cabinet, my Ten Nets, the New York dorks, and Trump, his wife he humps, on a Joe Camel’s back, this smoke in my lungs, it’s unleashing an attack, to breathe, and without panic— thank you Xanax to send a The Facts of Life a board game so boring, the Monopoly I’m ignoring, me owning Board Walk, and this because I had a “Walker” to aid my steps, and Dr. Walker of WSU with my suggested “A” but not resubmitting one failure of easy dialogue, to my dismay, at any moth on the lightbulb in May or Summer- I want the buns of hers, baked in the NETA MMJ no longer a valid and valuable Customer, seeking that seed, I planted one, but it didn’t grow- what do you know? About catching Trout attending Tufts so TOUGH LOVE my sweet-heart, but I just want ORAL-B was a customer of ECM Plastics, Inc. my job for years, my Dad sheds no ink, like my sink is clogged from writing on my Blogs… yes the best text coming from me, FOR YOU TO SEE!