I DON’T WANT TO HAVE ANY KIDS! I’m Traumatic Brain Injured at 40 years-old and too Disabled and Handicapped! AND IF 2 EVIL GIRLS GAVE BIRTH, with MY STOLEN SPERM, there will be Hell to pay, my ENEMIES !!!!!

Allyson Hodgkins has twin youths and I think she was evil enough to choose, to inject MY STOLEN SPERM, into her womb, when soon to lay dissentigrated from a disseminated missile, and Allyson Hodgkins, I don’t miss that fat old female, FOR DRINKING ALCOHOL WHILE SHE WAS PREGNANT!

I was with her some many months in 2004, she has her twin daughters, Isabella and Sofia, they show signs of “FETAL ALCOHOL SYNDROME” their ears sticking way out that’s a legitimate thing called “Curled Ears” or “Bowed Ears” a sign of F.A.S.

I HAVE A TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY AND THEY STOLE MY SPERM, BUT I NEVER INSEMINATED A GIRL ENOUGH FOR HER TO BECOME PREGNANT!

I want to buy a home near my real home with my Mom and Dad in Charlton, MA where I am worth a bunch of millions USD and able to buy a house and get married to my #1 LOVER EVER: Justine Aragona! =)

My sweet, sweet textual words coming but only in folded Folger’s aggrivatated with Gravities fun for me, drinking some coffee, just me, in my Apartment here at “Averte” where I give the bully a “Swirly” top with curls “for the girls” along the Boost Finest Fitness working put out the blended end with tomorrow September 11th of 2022, me and you-  us sitting Easy Sea-Side with all of my SAINT JOHN’S vending machines with Coke & Sprite, those High School days of staying up all night, reading the word of Books being hard to and COVER after you duck duck Grey Goose of my SOBER 2016 commitment, many years before and because my evil enemies threatened and I was “Committed” to hospitals from this wacky-and-attacked by the niggro Ford Dodge Nitro through and through the Cold “Bitcoin(s)” Starbucks Brew are the fucks who caused my TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY being RESPONSIBLE FOR ME, to respond, the fattest fuck here must be a queer-ass as an ASSHAT fag to mope around at all our’s of the night staying awake, but me being Frankly, “Stay away from me,” the tubby-coin TUBBIES maybe taken off of CoinMarketCap.com with my downing dollars till sunlight with NO DANDRUFF but my Mom brought me T-Gel shampoo for me when I said, “Ma’am ‘WHO’ do you think I am?” with green larvae eggs and a spammed laptop always treating me tricky, playing with my sticky shaven side-burns, from side to side… sitting slinky solitary and alone, my writing GODLY GOLD FOR READS TO “HELD” but not crying or needing attention, I require @Danimal’s $BTC fluidity, yes, the silent fluidity of sitting solitary but never Nebulus in God’s universe, to it-  believe it or not, but I WAS NOT “CONFINED” YES- ME HAVING REACHED THROUGH GOD’S ILLUSION AT THE EDGE OF SPACE… and Allah took me there, when I didn’t care, about the Solar System’s Trump-Insurrection of sucking and banging while she’s nailed and I’m Ailing on Aim to appear normal and sane and caring about the construction of my paragraph’s Instructions to stick to the glue, while it’s all for used, the wasted and MOSTHATED creation of grimy sludge with the fat bitches’es absolutely fatties “Abdominal PUDGE” these fatties eating FUDGED MATERIAL — I’ve never had a bowl of Cereal here with me waking up, so near, and to my fridge friend BESTEST the 1% chocolate milk with push-up’s to be big and manly chested, having one to twice times or maybe it was many months, me given “prescription estrogen” I was forced to take, SERIOUSLY- I wish I was making this up but I was prescribed by a FUCKED BUNCH OF JERKS, giving me sensitive nipples and pectoral heaviness—oh to the Heavens—when I plan on leaving, them, behind with a demonstrated destruction of, yes, the Solar System advertisement I didn’t need, with Allah, to God— oh I chose to PROCEED!

Justine “Tini Ara” Aragona, yeah it’s her and many babes but most of all Samantha portraying a Mantra of “Mannie Rotella” having escaped my clutch on a 5-speed Tranny, I be where Beyond, I’VE FULLY AND TOTALLY BANNED (nameless and faceless to fact the face of ZERO HAIR in the Northernmost Cranial “Place”) in my hospitably hospital and bed, when what was said, that bald fuck has all of the fuck to suck me off, his hair’s all OFF — Pamela (Kim Jong-Un) on BAYWATCH talking and ticking the phone unhinged in my deep splendor of pockets ripped and my mysterious “Spanish FLY” uninterrupted to fully ZIP IT UP, out of a drinked dinky Red Solo plastics of cup from my millionaire $$,$$$,$$$.$$ FATHER’S POLYMERS COMPANY: my parents have so much many dollars to store when I worked at a vitamin store—but not The “Shoppe” that’s known to many, and I’ve had it up to here with my #1 “mermaid” Mannie-  yeah her so elite with peppy petite feet for a footlong hotdog when I wing it wild with MY STOLEN SPERM ????? To flaunt my flossed growling groaning and SHOWING my two front teeth, and with white enamel, Joe Camel, my tiny amounts of Bugler tobacco- teeth decay, Emily Frey of Hudson Catholic the school-io when I went to SAINT JOHN’S and with a low lot of my NOT POT (!!!) too timid to try, years ago, when I DIDN’T “GET HIGH” (!!!) and I’d like to keep it that way when I have a lot more than Mr. Moran instructing Latin I at Shepherd Hill junior high when E. Pubis. Unum. Number 69 with carnal cruises to the Caravan with South Park’s character “Stan” of stem-cells to make Reeve’s able to stand—some aborted-fetuses brain tissue, a magical cure? My injured TBI “brain” is confused, but I defile the deaf declaration to the post-office “station” of having ordered my mail sent from Geneva Street, in Worcester, Mass near Le Mirage

Would you care for some feeding the poorest of the poor, moping, unemployed Custodians MOPPING the frizzy female jimmied locks on the ticking-talk-ety phat wristwatch clock on the wrist of left-arm only, at nighttime to watch girls it’s LOOKING TO “GET INVOLVED” with a re-V.O.-Lume all the way up on the pally laptop, have it “Pops” as Justin refers to MY GREAT DAD I CALL “GREAT WAYNE” who knows my writing, well, while it might appear as insane (Enlightened?) it’s a shame I don’t have Sean Hallinan’s number I’d call him, or ask my “Cuz” the older wiser Cousin Daniel Michael Besse—my Stocks went all “UP” and my Dad took them… but I hope in 2023 when they’re “SET TO SELL” (BECAUSE OF MILEY’S “23”-spoon-fed upped on the balcony their their their tier along the Rafters — the crab-habit RAPPERS — in the MILEY CYRUS SONG, “with my J’s on!” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbEoRnaOIbs)

Mark Cuban and Michael Jordan came out with “SportsRadar” but having seen the commercials for “Draft Kings” in the commercial Kevin Hart, the hitman and me and my Eminem’s D12 “band” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttWQK5VXskA)

I look to Ismail- his Gmail of which my pal Allah who I’m knowing he’s in the Zone-bars of protein chips go chew with your left hip PLEASE READ MY www.wrxtbi.com and to be purchased and eaten, when I say GREETINGS TO GOD (!!!) and Hosanna in the Highest, which then, I forget- it’s forgotten as the plot thickens with tomorrow 9/11/2022 I know you, and but and I’m coming with peace from Justine’s sweetie peach, when, this when we visited the beach and plus also, we went Bass Fishing with my Dad, AND WE ALL CAUGHT SOME BASS FISH!

Leave a Reply