My Dad owned 25% of this property and offices abroad, dainty painted Plot of a “pay-day” to get my own, me with my CEO,$$$,$$$ on LinkedIn…


To “Cage-one” Catfish with spliced rice, to eat, try it once or twice- that I promise you it’s very, very NICE!

Catheter on the pithy picture of a Baseball Pitcher when “pinching a pair of Laughable Loafers” them MySlippers, Mike Lindell I got “his cocaine-abuser book” starting with a vacation to Me-hi-co to get that yellow-tinted “white pow(d)er of not the queers to fear but the Angry Blacks practically having “Their Attack” with B.L.M platforms being also once again, the Shoes to peruse at where-else but Macy’s with a barrel full of W.L.M. trousers combatting whitey-hating Blackies, lacing the buckles on their coal-charred Uggs, the boots, to the roof on the tip-top “Hip-Hop Nation” MY FAVORITE SIRIUS STATION!

Coming kinder and sneaking up behind’er to seize the keys to Chantilly Laces of MMJ “High Heels” me eating low-carb meals- and now with a bowl of sliced strawberries, blueberries, and the get-your-grasp on the Raspy-berries wearing red, when all of my shit has been evacuated (no dibs on the Dangle-Berries, on the Potty) with a slip to wear pink-slips taking heavy trips to the John when the Football game is on, and plain played playing with very large “crumbs” called mother-fucking “Croutons” to take them vanquished of my Caesar scarred breaded-bits… when “The game” is on, all evening long, with the Joe laid back of a Camel with 2 humps, you pumped-out CHUMP, to not ever jump (off that ledge, along the edge…) but stretch your legs upon the love-seat Recliner, and you missed the Romeo&Juliet kiss so REWIND HER, with this particular female being a reminder of my verbal-having-been-tormented, and reporting an awful BitTorrent website to “The Authorities” on Google disconnecting the pirated and homemade Teenies taking in adult-size and style “BitTorrent Pornography” on scraped off serials of USB chains, I threw out my old hard disks, deep into my pond… and in the rain! When this it needs no refrain abstaining from my horrific rant of permanent discretion paused, watching a girl of 18, now not in months, me having seen, when they fuck in all holes, blown it, for the creeps of the World Wide Web-  they are moaning for the pleasure of the pink, while I vomit fervently when seeing a man “Pop a Cherry” it being so obscene, that it turns my tummy and my Spleen, of the paid-for-pussy one’s own “Charlie Sheen” saying “I piss Tiger Blood” to have it checked by an Orthopedic Calvary,  this years before my many, many as many as 30 Stocks and as many was as being 5000 Bitcoins, or only 717 and 458 and 250 all them “Crypto-Currencies” and my Tesla, upcoming, and paid for with my Elon Musk Stocks, like Dairy Queen at $400,000 a piece, last I checked, on a date, with a funny hunny caboose the dog got loose, to wander a neighbor’s lawn, and finding only the neighborhood Stray to stare at, on the house-front steps, their owner’s Miata is gone, as is the platter, of taking a long ladder and getting up ’n’ on the RAISE THE ROOF, this text and my truth, to feign interest while I’m dreaming of dilly-dally Sarah G. Ally to the US “Nation” with Google deleting it’s “Parthenogenesis pages” when they talk about how many, many VIRGINS HAVE GIVEN BIRTH 4 Real, 4 Real, HERE ON EARTH, of all ages, GONE- the Google Internet www digital Pages flicking ditched pre-paid cellphones, tickle-tickle, jimmy my funny bones of my own!

Now only my 3 dot-com’s and 2 fine blogs, on-screen, on my MacBook Pro, this is Kreayshawn:

To “Fix a Flat” on tired withered written off as “droopy” those soapy bubbles fix the “Titty one-at-a-time Augmentation” bitched birth boring boobies that barely BOUNCE when the bass-drum takes a tap of 2 wooden sticks with 1 per hand, what’s the name of this concert for this band? when slithering souls of the old Revolution Resolution to take off ten or twenty pounds with aerobics and aerosols accessories to the maggot haggard negrated Segretation for Inspection with Dr. Scalpel “a gadget” to slit the skin and the gloved-up hands go in to sexy-like gently squeeze one’s heart of Clubs, a wolf-like Bear and her “Cubs” of Cuban Governmental “Scouts” when they’re without a satellite system of Hyper-Sonic detection, the announcement of The Soon-End makes me bend, and killing my erection of a mechanical “SET” erectors of pee-test drug smoking underground “Bud” when I drink “Certificate Menthol” to enliven me and my scents of fishy smells, so “CLOSE YOUR LEGS!” Embroidered egg-yolks to be un-delivered, the over-y egg of half-shelved swishers to the pancake batter pitter-and-far worse than being taken away in a Halloween Outlet “Hearse” on halloween you’ll be an imitation Freddy, of Mercury, the metal liquid not to be ingested or invested in Playboy Magazine, oh the “zines” of my Xanax “Benzodiana-peen” said the Prince Pasta of 1 lb. Noodles, that’ll last ya, a couple days with the Alfredo-Tomatoes SAUCE of eyes wide open pupils, like UFO-saucers, with no police officers coma I was in for 3 weeks on ends, the cops, I want them as friends! Really protecting the province town when the gang-bang gangers come down Main, to the one and only street, Honda S2000 Meet ’N’ Greets, tinsel town exhausts farther farting gloomy clouds being Emissions to Emulate the ejected Mexicans I hate, them, when I haven’t received my $200 Mont Blanc Pen, when I don’t know the here and now-  I have a town of Milky Ways of the many Moo Cows munching the green grass on a ladies’ shaven hunter “in the bush” of a Texas-come- on come only with my milked for the day when I say, I don’t watch the teens on my Professional laptop, or Natalie… and Jesus my faith in Him renewed, HIM BORN IN A MANGER, with a shop-top Manager he’s sipping noodles he pains you with the Plain, so how about “Tesla Plaid” that ’s the “GT” of “EV’s” on the road of a highway, eating protein-and-olive oil ONLY, with my filled belly not at all sketched on a “Decline Sit-Up Bench” on the highest setting, my abs, I’m preset on an internet and internal Segregation of Fitness “Cumpilation” popular jingle-shots of anatomy autonomous mouths literally LIKING THEIR OWN “SHIT IS FOR A COW TO PLOP, taken from the top shelf bottles only, not even one sip to stagger starting nothing right here at this hours of me buying house(s) with my Millions USD, I invested in winner Stocks you’ve seen, my Bitcoins making it piggy with Biggie of Notorious Nor’easters come splinters…

Think X-Mas Cheer of mixed nuts like my BITCOIN CASH-ooze to read the news of these “Elon Musk” valid stories of man-like mixing nuts bound in leather ball-bags to sweetly squeeze the big one on the left, when I’ve instead included the testes bantering bereavement ME SO BRAZEN, the “Big One’s” of my USA “Nation” on the fact that my Jehovah’s Witness friend doesn’t even own an AM/FM radio, to tune into the KISS108FM “station” of found on Boston/Worcester Reception in a tranquil triangle inspecting the spilled guts of the young one who can drive a car, so far, and not being able to buy a cancerous bag of Butts, with others being without a mouth to SOP UP AND MOP UP, this XM tune-age is the shit! At 320 kbps CD quality of the brevity of beams driven through radically rad- Tical says Mef and men of once again, the Black RAP-TUNES of negro boobs, I don’t care to see or to suck the tasty treat of oily skin, that charcoal toner, I put away my non-inflated BONER, NOT WITH THE CRIPS AND/OR “BLOODS” my sheets so red with sticky blood of smegma tightly tucked away but leaking- her let them legs swoosh out the intimate intoxication of my GLEE *** SHE FELT FINE ENOUGH TO GET MY SHEETS UN-CLEAN *** and I was glad, I felt like a Dad, “Justine what did you do?” and “Why did you forget what that time-for-the-MONTH of school called off on Summer Vacation when there’s a SnowDay every day and who’s the www-dot-Informer with the information of my Insemination Kreayshawn: when holding the earpiece to a PREGGO’s wide stomach-peace, me bereft, lifting Hefty bags with the boobs of L.G. I know they’re perky and showing no sag, that old “hag” wrap her in a lengthy Gucci “Clutch” when here I have a HUNCH that the burnout drinker drinking pointed-straight-up liquor in the Jonestown “SPECIAL” Fruity Punch to mass evacuation to bring a “Spiritual/Death-enduring imploring Dead Dave’s own lifelong SACRIFICE!” What a life? Him Gone and Away from his offspring, he would get so damned and Drunk to do, SO… FUCK HIM, ALL GONE! and when I “GO” I want my ashes spread on MY FRONT LAWN AT 66 Lincoln Point Road, Charlton, A.M. nodding-off when I stay up so incredibly late and spilled the last few grams of HIS “Heroin-Fix” and hard-liquor Fuss, he couldn’t drive, or drink, Dave, to take the County Bus of busy transferring terrible hoodlums in Leicester, MA with the poet named Lester, once meaning all gay sex to offer his gayness in old-age, his worn body, worn of lubes, taking away my Disposal tube in the I.C.U. when I see all the many “Hits” on these Google-modified pages taking ages of 21+ to pursue, the cellphone carrier, of mine, CORRUPT- I have our turn to UHAIL Melanotan II that the nicotine gum, in a small box, I chew, the nice Nicorish nicey with Mrs. Xing-Jong eating Rice burning Honda Civic’s with a Doodie in the back-door PETUTIE of whole who but Doug Lashua????? or Doug Flooty ?????

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