I write so much prose/poetry for, who but you, the reader so check me out! =)

Me never unnerved and so sing aloud to a crowd, and then swerve, oh my word, around a corner me in order and while Faking Deep Fake—on Facebook—my accordance of William Mahoney my accountant who was previously my great DAD’s enamored community of his plastics/polymers company, of only two beautiful females, for 23 days of nights and day, me saying, “Hey I love you, Carina, and you Jessica, too! Third weighed every other daily, magnestic affection in the afternoon—and dammit all day long beautiful Ember here—All For you—keeping up with my medications and self-hygiene, food, etc. the beauty of a Queen swishingly and wishingly massive amounts of sweet hello’s and the food, oh the food-  it’s good


When what intervention of intervenous injections of one clean “anti-psychotic” intra-dereliction, cookies crumbs of what— Attila the “hun” battles won of what inspected language coming through text, that I’m hands off of me (!!!) and delicious more of the muffins- with no buns on burgers to only eat the meat—once running “Meets” in Worcester, MA—so that XC and Ski Club, “Back of the bus!” my business, my Google, toodle-noodle Google: “JMRQ Heavy Industries” that’s the best of me and I’m not a “troll” in any way, shape or form of internet interweb International poetic expression-  and without the disgusting nonsense found with consensual senses when she’s fucking on-cam with the menses Ovarial “abortion” filth of what one time each month—it’s a must-have to-do with a baby in Mama’s belly to extrude the elephant (my Dad weighed a lot at his birth…) its Ivory in Grammy’s belly for about almost exactly NINE of those month-ley’s Motley Crue to row a boat on J. Crew branded fashionable fits that are it with the GM and BM to the W of Bavarian Motor Werks with the treated twerking—I’m not weak or a terrible tweaker, but of The House Speaker—on Twitter the sweetest system, that Elon Musk-  yeah I talked to him!

Me being 41 y/o on Marches finest day of 20th, the special day when this soon, seeing Aunt Donna Donohue and my artist Brother Justin, too!

Anyways I sing the song of Timothy Waze that Waxy Maize on the Insulin-release and releashed $LEASH with the spilled milk of cass and boots, the troops, that China has the world’s largest military, and India—wow oh gee, why can’t EVERYONE LIVE PEACEFULLY?—with a piece of pizza and yesterday’s yeast detected and relinquished of Presidential doodie, so Elissa Victoria take a nudie, with video, you car-crazy little, well… you know, your smut taken offline that I hope your kitchen shelves are clear of that addictive liquor of getting drunk, I hope you drink very little, and adopt a Kitty of $PUSSY cat-like reflexes, and I haven’t had “reefer” in many years, causing my sighing of over ripped jeans, on the knees, so get down low to reflect my responses to the Facebook Monsters—designer Mustards—and showing respect and solid beneficial wishes, for “Special” individuals to wash dinner’s dishes, not dropping them but sudsy with the soap of my overworked and exhausted right PALM-olive and big oil, coming in a 1L bad-ass bottle, all troddled, and toodles to you, who, I see I have readers following you, and maybe the real and ephemeral (Eternal Love) of feeling your 8008132 chest nestled… up AGAINST my large pectorals, eating at Coral Seafood when I would always be in the cherries mood of eating the dining at The Sole Proprietor, and I’m not lying to you—I got it on in the parking lot and men’s room, when, these beautiful women would mysteriously, choose to romance me—I would feel the glee of swampy balloons Basketballs need to be diffused with the Nucleus Fission of my passion to never pass on a booty-ass bimbo who knows, how to swerve in the morning, afternoon (too soon?) and G’Nitey to you, doing what you do with that ‘thang-thang’ when I haven’t been with a girl in 3 or 4 years—but not shedding tears—months ago me RIPPED:

I thank “Citrucel” it’s a laxative—so skiny mini of getting in SHAPE:

I saw the cover and thought of her, famous Josie Maran so beautiful, when, later, then, on, TV, she was to be seen on QVC, her selling facial products of nutraceutical creams and oils and gels to bring out and along, not her thong, worn, I’ve been cinched and I squirm WHEN TO BE READ, that this instead, try calling me at 5o8-59six-43 with a 1 and another one, when I need some conversational fun, call me it’s 1 call of convo and that’s all, that’s it, so hit- me up at my cellular phone, Grammy’s cellar looking for more of the grandparental gifts, Christie Gilmore showed her “midriff” with a raffle to get addled in a limosuine, by my hottest Queen who the one other, my Justine until 2013, that her Queen status sufficed—I could have had the Boss of in that limo suine with me all night, SOBER 2016, that’s what I’m proud of, to say the least- if you know what I mean—the sheets of silk and NO BREAST MILK BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE A FATHER!—Laurie knew and she blew out the candle that peep my online handle: “JMRQ Heavy Industries” oh please like plz plz plz make mentional momentary (and monetary…) notice of me who- when I be and and and — when several years ago, with Edibles, I would stay high all day and all night—unless I had to do something like driving a car very far or attending a meeting—Peter L Sargent I don’t any longer “Stay High” Google: “song stay high” and the thermo in this stat-e allows me to have my stomach and lungs to STAY DRY!

There’s a pool here at “Averte” in the USA with those who sip and spit Cognitions of Cognac, with dinner—non-drinker = winner—rims called “Spinners” on SUV’s owned by the “urban” skin-colored dark, ALTHOUGH… many whitey’s would listen to Whiteney Houson, do we have a professional problem? No way because I could donate to All Black Colleges—I’m not a prude—I’m a professional “Crypto Trader” that the money is accumulation in this Nation of budding profitted fitness when my millions of US Dollars are only bing of contemplated, for now, and assuming I have my Wealth, my Health, my Happiness, my Fitness, etc. that the staff here at “Averte” have seen, me with no Queen Justine Aragona when previously I would moan to her, I want to $BONE her at my house or her’s—now sounding creepy and absurd, suredly, when I should now end this textual entry (An Entity) of entering the Entrance to my dot-com websites! CHECK MY OTHER MATERIAL ONLINE! please do it now and read about my 2013 or 2014 Investments… I’m a rich “CASH COW” ! with 1% chocolate milk!

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