SPAM MEAT AND A BUTCHER’S BUCKET OF SOBER 2016 PALE ALE, to be gifted with Palladium metal I invested in with Dan Besse my mighty “Cuz” when we left a message with WeatherTech to buy the owner’s $53,000,000 Ferrari 250 GTO!

Leaving a trace of intergalactic flight I went to Space Camp town Summer organized event to event

To great extents of putting together a tape of tented-tenets right handed and sanded woodie vehicles

Never hiccups, I put my money in Bitcoins in France in a Bank in France, LIVESTRONG I like Lance

To pay the price on a plate of lemons and limes, drinking water all the time at UNO’s with my Justine

Soda burps coming from her at the booths we would sit and eat Steak on a Stick with sirloin meet

Playing footsie gently her stroking my feet while we Dine every night at UNO’s with absolutely no wine

Her not whining and me winning on the keyboard with viewers galore, I once worked at a GNC store

USB hard drives and fingerprint scanners, Dan and I had his Assistant collect key points on videotape

To make a cake of cotton cushions to feel the produced prices I’m seeing on my screen my Bitcoins clean

IN THE USA STATES ALL OF NEW ENGLAND, this sea ship has landed at the rise of a trip to Mars

Being very far, like too far, with Space-X and Elon my online and phone friend until the end of Putin’s power

At any hour, the salt is sour with Sour Patches of hair missing on the left side of my head, the moreover

To the fairweather friends who ne’er think about the End of life as we know it, let my USA country show it!

Climbing a tall stack of Clif Bars to eat the chocolate chips, when I broke “STOVED-IN” my left hip

Amounting to 7 split pieces a Pieces I was born to be, expressing my favored flavors the Suite of the week-

Behind the lines of wobble tippy-toe I’m Jim Weeble, the Wall St. Jeff M. or “Jeffry” an Alias at last here now wow with the filth of a muddy cow, showing crows-feet every day of the week, is Laurie Griffin I want a kitty-cat named “Cookies” to hold a winter’s Mitten on her hand and parking the limo in an empty parking lot, Justine’s driveway — she was hot — to trot with a Gal, using hair gel to Gallop on Jack Dorsey’s footsteps also along the tracing lines, wheel-spacers on SpaceX spicy dish that Trisha from Shrewsbury without fungus, the portobello lunches of chef-made meals, to ease my dear old eyes with spectacles abroud like a wimpy sod, a wet noodle to do what I do while not giving a go so I say NO! and stop the show of teasing Textual strength bereft of a beer-time banquet, the feast of a roast broad remember sudsy soap with me saying, NO! now Putin don’t press that button

PUTIN IN SUGERY, WHAT’S THIS NEW GUY GOING TO DO TO ME?

And All of a sudden, I stopped drinking alcohol years ago, this is known, to be a price with a mighty crown, I own this town, here at “Averte” they offer purpose to me, often pleasantly with Ember and not caring to be with Carrie, too chubby but sweet, she can mouth my toenails cracked snails of Mama’s Ale and allergies to the rag with me NO WEED, I never planted the seeds in the POTTED PLANTS by the beach on Lincoln Point Road, I have never licked an Amantaria toad, to load, the jack it off the reigns of a pointed rig 18-wheeler if you catch my big jib, to eat the meat off of  a rib-bone bare of hair with Nair on women’s legs, ELONgated pegs, of pets on a pecked playful keyboard it keeps me so bored, drugging the concert-goers with lawns for MOWERS of twin towers majesty, this Middle-East got the best of me, to pray to live in a land of sand, and seasalt washed in tattered jeans, The Situation had abdominals lean ’N mean in-between the swimmers sandals on the shore the hoarder owned seasalty sexually intrinsic I fulfill my fantasy of combing ones hair and the Nair no onto me not being “There” in the Mont Blanc pen, and a Farmer’s salud to the news that if Putin’s guy leans toward a lunch of such mucho much munchies to crunch a Single Karat with a Cubic Zirk Mark Zuck has worked so hard creating Facebook to endure a hart of glass with a remembered Lass my Last and Most-Recent lover Justine my wanna-be wife with the rest of my life to take place, dancing in Outer Space, so clean of Anti-Aging chems and protein-peptides I put in the left side of my face, a clean new Insulin pin it took the Fragment 177-191 within, this my skin on the Anti-Aging one shot in the cheek it brightened up my soggy complexion in an almost instant posture posting posts after hitting a telephone pole to party with TUBBIES COIN THAT’S BEEN ERASED FROM COINMARKETCAP   . COM so I say so long a drive to get Justine her favorite meal, this at a STEAK-HOUSE with set traps to catch a mouse in the most humane way possible, to pick it up and take it outside, the Mouse goes for a lifted Ride (Pimp my Ride) to bust a pathetic drifter offering bribes, every single (SINGLE!) time when I whine about not spanking booties with marching steps toward Ukraine’s capitol then Trump and his “Insurrection” court still under protection of SPF45 to stay alive until in 5 years time I’ll be using SPF30 while dancing fancy with erect pants they be, GLEEFULLY, accepting the time has come to a Time dot-com article about how “Parthenogenesis” disproves Jesus Christ’s “Divinity” the Holy “Trinity” alongside Neo in a Geo Metro being heterosexual as Jesus Christ had no baby to take care of, in the Lair of Mary St. Magdalene and “The Borgen Project” when I seeked involvement with a publication, Blank Canvas, once found in Worcester MA when I failed American Lit. II with Mr. Blake eating corn flakes — I actually bought my teacher Mr. Blake a box of corn flakes or Frosted fostered wholesome families where I want to be with Justine and not start a Birth-Given Child a home to one’s own, as now the sour jingled Jintropin and Jim Chase, what a face, but not attending a Funeral for him, I was given the news too late and I haven’t sinned since disbelieving in Jesus Christ as God, I think he was a regular plain-ol’ Virgin Birth that there have been many in shrouds when the wife Justine in an Apron watching PornHub and forgetting that the stove’s story about PRE-HEAT every weekend with friends, this energy won’t end at half past one AM when Putin Puts my country in a JAM or jelly to fill your belly with KY paste give the Solo cup’s taste of Tesla’s Stocks I own, from 2013 or 2014 one night- far from my real “HOME” clicking its button at the top of the page, people die at all ages of the thousand Plus pages in MSWord withered fingertips left alone with a dog and his or her BONE to chew the chaw of me saying of 3rd-time’s-a-CHARM, with stallions on a beach, to extend my reach, with one arms to care almost 3” longer, the operation to the nation of American Proudness showering with Finesse and “Nessie” disproven unapologetically I foresee a future of forward Foremen at the wheel of a junky old car no one wants, to the Geo Metro owner, the paint is rust in spots, without any Pots or Kettles banging, I am craving the creme brûlée offered every one time a while ago when I said “NO!” I’m not putting on any sort of “SHOW” your cards or I’ll give it to you with a pardoned hard-on when the Rook takes a Pawn I yawn camping out in the backyard, a Card this now Mother’s Day I gave my Mom an expense-entailed entity from the best side of me, my right side larger than left with an evened out chest I cheated with protein-peptides, then standing taller, I hug the sides and lift up Justine’s skirts, me a Flirt who doesn’t want to get here hurting heart left lonely only my one bone-ly in jeans with no rips in between’s the gallbladder and Spleen left the scene of Justine’s forgotten monthly friend, blood was drooping out her rear end, but I was a friend boyfriend so loving and taking her end to my bloody car-seat of sit-in in solitary RL Stine refinement Matador in space with no pain, and this my refrain:

GOD IS THE GREATEST!

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