Fluffy Fluffers getting ashes to be spread, spend some wheat or whey, the bread, as being that instead of BREAD, I go low-carb for about 2 years now, but drinking a cow’s… crows feet with 1% chocolate milk, Mister Cow, oh and how… I raise my brow and I sing textual words in prose, a Professional Planned minus the parent-hood, this because I don’t want to ever be a father, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t “raise a kid” getting paystubs from am an absent “Jobbs” at Apple (RIP) to seek the man who KNOWS, who GOES, and take me to my HOMES!

I’m so rich and I want to buy a house nearest my “Health Proxy” Mom and Dad, but not necessarily that order as sometimes I mention The One, The Father, created me of a Says Me Seed on a road of Lincoln Point Dr. (Hive) alive for when my Dad- he was watching with a wind-up Rolex, flexing hairy pecks of The Company-President’s Office and I deeply love my Mom, not grabbing that proverbial “Booty” of Irate Pi-rates on hotornot.com ago, so long, that I would skim the 10’s with bills in my pocket, Toad and Wet Socket of BOOTS ON THE GROUND, and Ripley “the barker” at the Pound of a single slice- it being Pastrami, I want my Mommy! and with my GREAT DAD visiting me too, chasing my writing with a chaser of Spinal Tapped Water on the shoulder hid by my Mom’s she’s get the older, 40-PLUS now I really *AM*, and “The 40 Virginity Wives”, I YELL AT THE NOT YET MATURE FEMALES, “SCRAM!“

And cramming for a test, I like developed breast meat from Winter Saul-more’s Delicatessen *DELI* when I have a fit and thin and shrinking, stinking, weenie little photos of An Average Man, doing what all he can, named “The Stand” of lives lost at the win of Jack Frosted “Daniel” or “Samuel Adams” of my U.S.E. plenty of toilet-paper when NES Paper Boy came out, I’ve reeled in several trout for all I be about with those 2 “SAFE KEYS” and the combination known my many Taxpayers in the USA Nation, for crying out loud, I support women wearing brightly-colored SHROUDS!

To break a Corona sending the glass’es shards all on the floor where the dust collects me more absure spitting keystrokes that I stroke my stick — that goober Official with a brain-given “Stroke” in the news—all I watch is the news and my TV is always ON, there’s a really so incredibly FAT AND OBESE AND PATHETIC FUCK HERE — Y’alls knows how’s I glint the Shamer stuttering with a brand-new stick of BUTT-ER, that I saw this fat guy wears man-thongs, yeah, and ON with sweatpants drooping, he’s so lazy, and he pretends to act crazy, like, A BOWLFUL OF “LOT” and never “pot”—I only have CBD—bostonhempire.com I see, waiting for an order at call on the phone, the Porter, and Natalie Portman of the lubrican’t be with a man because I am not a faggot or tranny or the B.S. with “Identity” — but good luck to David Cronin (Kirsten he prefers to be called by many) AND HE HAS 2 BABIES AND HE’S GETTING A FULL-ON “SEX CHANGE” because he bent over, or something, I forget! =)