Clingy black crutches, that’s what my Hunch is, and tried ’n’ true bad attitudes of gay faggot dudes wishing them be ashes as a videocamera flashes, its “FILM” stirred and sea-brown “FIRM” friendly me pissing out my pee-pee where the midnight oil sits atop the fresh-flushed water wait—something’s funny, the surface of what water remains bubbly and sudsy—yes there’s a FIRM FILM ATOP THE WATER—post strokes and my Hot-Rod silly me so fantastic and shown to always flush twice—at my home, in Charlton, MA, and only at my home, in Charlton, Mass… when me and her are dong-done having sexy-time FUN, but that film on the top of the toilet bowl, that made my Dear Father of a first-born named “ME I’M ‘JEFFREY MARQUIS’” !!!!!
Dad says to his wifey Debbie, “Have you seen the murk from the junk of Jeff—the Hunk ????? “
So what the Hulk in the trunk of Radiohead’s “The Bends” When I’ve Ben here, him on Etherium, I put massive amounts of money into—this after Google: “Vitalik Buterin”—who, him, now favored by fine financial fiasco’s of the “Meta Verses” he told me he had a bodyguard and then I took him seriously, but firstly saying, to him, “Do you lick vitamins?” OR something zany when I was totally sane in 2005 when I was before meeting Justine “Tini Ara” Aragona I want to be with her, to the end, of Radio “terrestrial radio”—I’m into XM with Hip-Hop Nation but not Tik-Tok yeah you awful fuckers I’m not signing onto any forums or Social Media, that this is “ME TO YA!” With it now being Today and no longer nighttime of yester-years of my 2016 “SOBRIETY” NEVER DRINKING BEER, and I’m not a gay faggot, I swear, me now smiling EAR TO EAR!