Want to Wander Warmer on the hot plate from which we have Ate the night before — of broadcast TV dinners, Mucho Munchables with this my powerful body so Muscular and being able to take the head-seat at the Diner’s table, a Boothe of Colonel, hopefully a friend, I want to fondle the 21+ girls at the nighty-night again, I just might, be up in the Club with a bottle folly of Bubbly banter at the latter circumstance of me undoing the bottom bottom button on the new pair of underwear, from which I hold my shield, in a shell, with this masteraburtory such and such, when I have no sexy LUCK to give a lay to a lady who tickles my fancy, like Krystal of yesteryear, peppy and Petite girls give me thrills of me not giggling, jingling in the jugular of the Jungle-fantasy Rhianna and I say hi to my new friend on Facebook: Rhianan Lee
Real and Factual instead of being a Twink Fairytale where I’m a 40 year-old male, resembling a man in his 30’s when the I-G-F I see, its affectionate but lack of flavor I savor, getting beyond Jesus Christ with my intense suffering years ago, when y’all of you’s who remain steadfast in your fallacy (JK) of following me online, with now Peter Sargent declining, to read me, yes, him doubting me and Time.com’s article about a new “Holy Birth” for disproving Jesus Christ’s supposed “Divinity” it’s obscene to me, with I TRULY BELIEVING IN GOD and no humans, let alone the Bible—I prefer The Qur’an—as I take my stand of dipping to the left, one left leg being shorter post-surgery, or post-morality?
I see and “Tings” with my love of yesteryear looking back-to-normal now, when I want my Justine back and Brother Justin to take my phonecalls to him, hearing the ring, to the bowels of my kitchen sink, these rhymes intwined, with NO WINE! NO WHINING! I consider myself Enlightening, putting a “Zing!” on your screen, but writing this professional prose it’s seen by many, so plenty-ous with rarely a cuss and no mention of blacks, the negroes, I know they goes to the Bodega Bars, on street-level and not traveling far, from their basement apartments of derelicts discretion to create more tax on the Welfare system
Living at “Averte” and not driving, now, being “never swerving” when I get my Proverbial SWERVE “ON” to once having been oh say, Mowing the Lawn, so long, so kiss your ass to Charlton, Mass, of my honed honey hometown sweetness of bad habits, like drinking, NOW SOBER 2016 on ward, without a wart or a fart of unpleasant Gas — stand straight right and do it light, with the GREEN GO! means step forward on the throttle, to throttle the thought of NOT POT! NO MMJ! Doing it without chemical ail when I set sail on the Sally with no Ally or daughters, my sperm, so small, it falters Finesse shampoo to stroke my stick… the GEAR-SHIFT with a snifter of a snicker from the antiquated ME, 40 years-old you see, but healthy in most respects, and shifting knobs with Dial soap, in the shower — somewhat rarely — because I don’t seem sweaty or sweltering with GREAT-WEALTH, hoping for my 5000 Bitcoins to Deliver the Honey Ham at the Deli — delicious protein, took the Rook to conquer the powerful Queen, now Liz passed on, and saddening multiple nations of Accented speech, their own creation — what’s with Hyundai Accents? They’re so slow and wholesome, coming, from other seas of don’t you see the dilemma of South Korean swindles, NoKo’s Kim lighting candles before the world LIGHTS UP — 9/11 coming and hesitant of war, with WWIII I hope to never see, it, so GIT the narrow-eyes of narrowslab.com having openly ordering upon, Performance Enhancers entangling the inner fabrics of my brain—with most viewing me as SANE — me of Sanity with Santoprene flowing at my Dad’s huge business, he sold for many millions—almost a ka-zillion, $36.5M yes, to the tune of Eminem with his new Holy song, about God and Jesus Christ and such, I don’t owe Jesus much, as I SWEAR TO YOU ALL, I SUFFERED IN HIS NAME! so the Bible needs no refrain, I took Jesus’s pain, away, for a while, and I bet he sighed at the signed line by me in tranquility in the ICU in 2004!