Bruce Fenton FOR SENATOR OF NEW HAMPSHIRE! and Elon Musk- I come from “moneyed”with double-vision and a there’s a hold in my pocket while I say aloud “BUCKET!”

Turn me “On” and such and, so on so to those in the “Know” with Allah inhabiting his center-of-the-Universe, my body, so no subtlety, I blasted off with Allah to the mountains away-  them so far as so on-to the drugs of Haloperidol (I got my shot today) and the PRN’s here at “Averte” where I par-tay in my primo apartment, having hoped to meet Bruce Fenton FOR NEW HAMPSHIRE SENATOR! who he is my old friend having convinced him to get into politick-ing in Washington to the D.C. of my country’s inhabitation, in my Nation with the Islam discovered here, me The Qur’an reader where… now and then, when I posted this:

I’m a person without “buzzing” my hair or any alcohol/drug appropriation taking my contemplations of ME where you want to be?  I know, I see, I saw, so turn me “On” with pre-marital sex and mucho mastro Maestro STROKES and nothing poke-ing my Southern backside of HETEROSEXUAL PRIDE! but only mostly… and not entirely as I have been so tempted not once but twice with club (magazine) and Tonic with NO GIN, NO OBJECTS “INSERTED” WITHIN!  However, I want to stick it where “the sun doesn’t shine” and her, maybe with a glass of wine, or 2 tall pitchers, yeah sex all night long “Pitching” with my “Bitching” to the limit of God, but once having reached beyond Him!  I swear and feeling Justine’s breasts, all night long, me on top of her and horizontal to Unlimited Horizon VERY POSSIBLE with the one you choose to spend your life with and Trust Fund, us having fun but then when I drank, Russian tanks, on a beach—that’s where Rev. Anne wanted to be today—now on August 3rd when my money has arrived from “Disability” and there are some so-so being hacked by my enemies, but separate from that—I’m Islamic—I have little to now as of 2004, especially, when I learned about the MANY “VIRGIN BIRTHS” yes many have been birthed exactly in precision-ly precious like Jesus is so supposedly thought to be, Him, by many who leave pennies in the “Tip Jar” with jargon text when I thought China would attack yesterday, when I hope no war is “On” like I want to be I don’t care about masturbation or my monthly “friend” the disgusting FEMALE “MEN-STRUATION” needing medication, a Midol and a Zantac 75mg of wait to see, MG, my Aunt Donna Donohue drove one, owned one MG, a Coupe but without a “Hood Scoop” to feed the intercooler with fresh cool air recycled at 65 miles purrr hour with Oven Mittens baking bread, and Ukraine serving out Grain—the export of what a retort returned to the Queen, waiting to be un-seen, my by many by most- let’s Wake and Bake, with a “J” to roast, this before putting a spread (legs) and butter on Toasted accolades of the ephemeral, USA Nationally, Benny Franklin on the $100 bill— I have 2 $100’s in my wallet, sufficing to call them quote-unquote “Benjamins” where the sticky $1’s have been in a stripper’s pussy or some shit, it’s great, it’s crazy, the $1’s be where the COVID-19 be, spreading (I already stayed on that…) the GERMS of drinking straight from the carton or straight from the Spinal “TAP” to heal one’s back, and that I have no bed-sore it’s all better I don’t believe I really had one, yeah people lie to me all the time, like mail for MY GOOGLE: “JMRQ HEAVY INDUSTRIES” for all on the w-w-w tarantula’s Web of Charolette on “Sex and The City” the brunette, yeah she was my favorite butt slut to Atilda’s Hawaiian “Hut” with a Margarita for “KristenMur” the object of my Saint John’s High School “Desires” not to be fulfilled but with a kiss, on my lips, on my face, with dress shoes Laced to the peak of working weeklong Sunday’s scheduled and the substance of Lance’s winning, I wonder if he used RAD-140 (Google) to be a RAD-ICAL BIKER, but with no exhaust for the tailpipe, “a bunghole tailpipe” in the center of the exterior on the end like the Porsche Boxster (me not wearing “Boxers” throwing Hawaiian punches and to The Grille) Porsche Boxster gawking and squeaking and squirting the fluid at the cameraman gets WET at the Oh Really Gee, pull up your panties under the Dockers Pants swimming Trunks with the 30-rack of Bud’s in the back, to take that liquid to the liver, your liver and my LIVE-R to be, a Tree… like TIMBER upon to Brother Justin sinning underseas, in a lake or in a pond, this the long paragraph, to be Aft, my Baker Pond with a Marquis “Raft” not put out this the year, where… my Mom went swimming yesterday with the fishes in murky water yet not a SWAMP (HI MOM!) <3

I do it for myself.

I get along to a textual sing-a-long with Horny Justine Aragona I love her and hair down there, but only once for a couple of us, for grown hairs one or two week/weeks, to think, to take, a public place in space with Elon’s Space-X as in the “E”-pills of electronic music, the dancing “Ravers” the druggie CRAVERS… when they sign a Waiver on a straight and solid, dotted, a line, to walk for the cops now using the Bread Analyzer to see if it’s really the “Body” of Christ and this paragraph of graphic footage with George Floyd wearing pink, one in the stink, that I’ve never been a “Thumb Sucker”—but I’m an avid “BUTT-FUCK’ER” !!!!!

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