I’ve got no time to kick back easy ’n’ breezy I’M NEVER BREEDING or feeding a baby with Formula, fools, using heavy-doodie Tools of writing essays, hey Jesse, my ease of hopefully never producing the product of 1 sperm cell that who would show me heck, with fermented Wheaties of the egg-batter beaters giving me the personal persona as a “Facebook Creeper” that I admit, I was too-into “Tiph” and this previous of my milligrams sparking GHRP-6 longer arms with added height of 3” TaLLer when in the hospital they made me SmALLer but when the time was done, I was given a pill of penile-size increased some, by a bit, that Justine’s teeth were sharp, a little bit of the mouthly harm I was given, but her forgiven, and not to utter that Desrosiers-name again, written in a Contracted at easy, itty bitty bits of NO BITEY, dearest Dogecoin of cooked crisp Sirloin, my loins, a lion of the Staff here doing spying, on me, where I want to be alone and surviving my Warrior status, you at-us, you Atlas, predicted war with Ukraine, as per the cumulonimbus clouds, and Christians in shrouds, shy, when I sigh and sign of a Yield with the cow-fields of chicker-chickens with the fatty whole milk thickened, double pump, and pour a glass when the last lass I was with so skinny, no ass, at last, after Justine’s rear was a little too big, her Apple so thick, click, hero for the window cracked a tiny bit to feel the bite of cool air at night, where I live with the-day slept away, as a Night Owl, the Huskies (Northeastern University) of added adversaries remnant disparities of the catch to the caught, thinking not to absorb the Carbs on a see-saw moon of the crowd, shooting off the sky when I *sigh* having an Agreement not to smoke pot, I could use some right now, and how?
Do I writing with delight and no Brandy, banning barbed-wires of telephone cords for the Wireless 802.11 invention being Wild-Fi to the ER with what was a a a cry for HELP me with the motivation of staying clean, vanished wart of Dad’s business company “Worthen” worth more THEN, and WHEN I say how hello you addicts always seeing what I say, me the TYPE to peck with KB’s being hit the keys… or a code to my door when THE STAFF GETS IN, because of the angry kin I hate, this bullshit has seen the Sun early with step-sis her buns on the bums of many bumpkins and pumped pumpkins who my own kin, they sin, and they’re hopeless drunks, a dike, and a heroin junkie Dave who KILLED HIMSELF! But only after I tried to get him the help he needed, that twice he breeded breeding with 2 girls to get paychecks from Uncle Sam, and my Dad wouldn’t hire him the Addict, telling him to SCRAM with the eggs over-easy with the breeze of what instead but gun smoke, I don’t “Toke” any MMJ for years now, and how, does to the green- no longer seen at NETA absorbed in lung tissue, a whole box, once finding relief with a “Claritin” prescription of what but a conniption of allergies that were, mine, to invest in Boron and Iron Ore in 2013 or 2014
Swore sweet and sewer side claims by Alas, my damn “dames” leaving me single and with only Ember—her I might mingle—with what but a trim and slim bodies, us both, I remember I liked a Hostess Muffin—the butter so puffy of margarine and hero zero margaritas! No Mardi-gras when Dad just mowed the overgrown grass, but busting his a$$,$$$,$$$ with the Sobriety of him and I that makes me gleeful, having see-n the Queen to Her Majesty, that the women who’ve had babies with MY STOLEN SPERM, that is a Travis T. of Theodore when I would like at lake More-AY with a sum to say, when with this writing, I PLAY of rhymes and $0.10 dines to eat good meals, at the meats, the treats, with a Middle-East PEACE, retreating the reiterating of the Masses in Massachusetts—that’s where I want to be—I can afford to buy a house worth oh-so many Euro’s—yeah I have so much money Int’l—processing the payments come 2023 when this I me I be the way to go of not having a Ho-jam with inept insertion, with my Discretion based only upon how I’ve been seduced and Sways of me and this August—almost as coming to a clothes, washed and folded, my 5 Bitcoin t-shirts and many Polo’s—but who knows? How much money I had in France, for Franc’s, and Frankie Bones of LET THE BEAT CONTROL YOUR BODY—my ears listening to the incoming auditory and ten-fold temperate running a Fever of repetition Cow-Bell chimes, my rhyming, originating within and I get it in with this “Frankie Bones”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPvXwyZ6hOI