My weight is straight like a lucky lover named Lucy Noodle- another Traumatic Brain Injury “Fief-ker-doodle”…

I also post on my

Arose and Around a wrong to sing a song at a metered pitch, car in a ditch, with a pleasureful itch on one’s arm, scratching epidermis and causing the sebaceous glands minimal harm, when it’s warm and you’re getting hotter with that girl in Harry Potter, since then matured, oh momma it’s: Emma Watson-  yeah it’s that I want HERS!  To camisole princesses sifting daintily, welcoming the douche-fairy, fairly Farewell, the kitchen here at “Averte” comes with a sweet, sweet smell, to the 9 o’clock bell on my “Elegance” and in a trance to be of tangles, at all angles off the hook when I read my The Qur’an—my most important book—along with SUPERINTELLIGENCE, peep my Facebook profile with it as my upper-side “banner” of trying to type better and better to the BEST, the lovely little lips upon a soothed bee’s rest, and resting, prior to one’s scrumptious meal at a restaurant, Menu to flaunt with papyrus-run printed pages—no bar here!—so food for any ages of 21+ realistically—getting sweets in the 20-something treats—and walking on planks—one’s “The Streets” of monsters and fairies on Halloween, to be obscene, the day of this garbage I’d have listened to, and U2 – “With or Without You” that it’s true I have to deal with massive amounts of B.S. I want to see Ember in a pink dress like Jessica Tocci:

My 1/3 lovers—and all at once—in 8 East with these 3 girls bowing before me… both before and after dinner where my Dessert was these three treat-some girls who we were in our own world, being one of me loving girls and their skinny and slinky bodies, yeah me craving the Caucasian (ONLY!) Christian and Islamic, that if I had to take my pick- I would go with Jessica seen here of HER IN PINK:

Morgan, Mister, and Stanly—so hot in the Desert where it’s so Camel’s cigarettes, it’s “Sandy” in the Islam region of a powerful religion, and to shoo (with shoes on…) the “hood rat” PIGEONS of distance call them Eons like ELON MUSK, yes him my official #1 best friend, I bought him gifts like fancy pens and flowers for the receptionist in his office palisade, wearing Grammy’s jade, having it made, drinking blue Powerade—my low-carb “ZERO” fave—I don’t like the mentally retarded guy, drooling, no fooling, a mental-retard here at “Averte” where there’ve been a couple stupid idiots and a druggie, suicidal people, and my yo! my ordering a $315 Mont Blanc pen, unavailable to be seen, oh the scene, of my parents having returned it or holding now hold, to be holding on, my favorite song, NIN – “You Take Me Closer To God!” who is not a fraud entirely, but Him a real “Illusion” like a hologram, yes and correct, our 2013 correspondence for hours, the Tantric sours, that, one more time with Mrs. Neas and her girly girly ass, but showing me none of her “Sass” oh? and “Moderator” my ass, reeling in a 5 lb. Bass to the <>< fish of dining at The Sole Proprietor ( with an entirely attractive employee long list, flipping pages with my wrists, now making puppy fists, peculiar, my dear John Deere Stocks having risen like baked bread, and a chocolate cake — I’ll be having cream pipes at Christmas Day when I swear, I won’t, not verywell made, liquor from the cabinet SOBER 20-sixteen, older Danita, “The Queen” and a leaky Spleen to be Obscene and Obscure with Dad’s massive collection of antique fishing lures!

The endured labor of a Lab to be suffering and abhored, me not so bored, thinking of the hugs with NO DRUGS but CBD the MMJ I have known and loved in 2016 and through 2018—then when, I was relocated by my Parental “partial—no way, more like “Health Proxy” controlling me completely, with the comb in my hair, that Dad cuts! and it fine, Mom drinks a glass (or 2 but not 3…) white wine, Wayne’s richness wealth and their health, the words- of my words, all correctly spelled and smells of lasagna for dinner, with plenty of meat, that protein and fats are what I choose to EAT — low carb since 2014 — I miss “Arbs” and bushes pine, of burdens, on Chandler Street, tapping my fingers and large feet-  that oh that, well we all know as to what it equates with the size of preproduced SIZE where it counts, as J.T. mounts… me, that you can see me read my books, tangled in Stren fishing line and hooks, to catch the Marlin—oh I’m dazzlin’ to a Twitter of Elon my #1 buddy, that his Biden brush is catching the chilly-willies, a wet William of Teddy Looks and Birthed Biden:

ECM Plastics, Inc.’s “Randy” Mr. Youngsma, taken before his time and lucky enough to own a new Corvette 5.7L V8 — taken for a drive, me? that I’m unsure of whether he let me drive, this sportscar in bright red and waxed, his wife dunno if she waxes her legs, an ECM partner, for a slice of is pie? I BEGS!

And as I’ve been injected, I’m 3.5” shorter on my legs, no one wanted them standing TaLL with me and TaLLer with GH2 for about $340 I spent, all on pills about $2 or $3 a piece, with 30 in a bottle, SOBER 2016 when this years now…

I don’t drink bottles of Bub in the Club or choose to peruse the material which has gotten Boo’s a la the Audience, paying sixpence a show, when what do you know it?

I have a big Defense:

Thank you. =)

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