2122 Lower Plain at “Averte” where they treat me and good!

Up-shift the gear’s shifter paddle to get at the wondrous fable of the table and my of years ago, some of you know, it’s all for show and it’s all for used, me to peruse- the angled albatross of a Doctor of long ago, but you don’t know the knowing me showered and showing my best side, and faced forward- to never be in a mental-hospital locked up and angry, oh gee, elsewhere I wanted to be, me… and driving my car so far 40 minutes away toeing the pedals in wonderful celebration, to The Sole with my friends, sitting with Peter to no end but me moving far away from my parents, so dear to them, and in 2013 or 2014, having me and deeply invested in John Deere, my dear, so near on the phone, but so far so good, what’s up with the chocolate Hood milk, I would rather drink instead of eating a banana—that’s never—when off to the game I feel an itty bitty bit of care for the people here, the staff, with them so aft to after 7:30pm they give me the Medz, feeling better in my “TBI” head, of wallops of scallops and shallots with what finest secretion the direction- feel no mention, to be butter-cuffed in the slinky dinky small car, on the street- the engine’s oil in the heat, of fitting fine in with a feline full-size older cat, and that Ember is sweet—I’m glad I met her and she gives me a wide myriad amount of TBI pills at low doses, instead of the most-ed and dusted furniture needs a fix-in to the Sole of my showed off shoes, fitting fine and without any wine on a windy day- when I say, “HEY! So what’s the fuss?” Albeit to sit at the back of the bus, on metro-transit, waiving “hello” to the albatross and intelligent, so SUPERINTELLIGENT!

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