The U.S. “us” to rescue relations of not Retin-A no sitting zits on her face of cheery fack-t’s I’m under attack!

Bixby bidding Biden of a sweet-teet breast with Turkey from a muffin backwards baking in the oven, of witches and no proverbial ‘bitches’ sitting sodden and for-laden with a Hen drawn a stretch of a Mont Blanc (cologne) stench with a righty-titey “wretch” of leaning Southern on a bench — pressing time — I wait!  To be finished him next when the goodie golden shoes of tied laces with pretty faces, like this my Justine of yesteryear my John Deere Stocks with circling inside FLOCKS of a found flounder fish to make this my main wish, to be with my Justine “Tini Ara” Aragona (justine.aragona.3)

Dining at Uno’s so sugary and sweet, the salads… she doesn’t eat the LET US BE AT LEAST FRIENDS, once again, writing not with a Pen my prick, so lonely here when she’s not-here no-where near The Aftermath of Calculus I, withdrawing, of a pen’s wick so thick, I need to endure some sweet kisses, the McLovin’ of movies seen, with my Justine

SMOOCHIES with this cir-cum-stance being our Traumatic Brain Injuries — is SHE… alright still and wait for the “crusty” saying of Elissa Victoria having made-it with so many sporty vehicles, her newfound toddler on Tricycles like Lance with Ants in my Pants to a heavy breatheing when this now I miss her magical chests!

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