Something some-what Symphonies, but resided, and I take the BitTorrent—undecided of its wealth—so, I sticking with the Coins of gold and silver six-pence, taking a Hex-agon, like Hexarelin of years ago and the IGF-1 LR3, I know, I remember, when every splice of a bodily slice to become growing—my meaty and athletic my 2007 body, Decided, into the decimal place of micrograms, Resolute and TaLLer with muscles growing but obie obey the chemicals’ play—of me being a boy and a man, with what squats unable to stand, but not passing out, that my working hard, the head rush—it could have brought bodily resilience, but to what extense and expanded fibers twerking to the jizzle of Taking Back Sunday—my favorite musical group, at Dad’s ECM Plastics, Inc. singing songs of all the $$,$$$,$$$ profits all day long, and fat males wear thongs, and Ida, but me and me supporting the Stridex pads of time past with facial blemishes—conquer them with topical treatment—but never with Accutane—so accurate, the pimping popping white sebateous junk—as I choose to be clear and faced with the fallacy of an imperfect contemplation, perspiring, per-spectacles and Speckles (my Leopard Gecko, it had to go…) Complexion of beauty-products, usually on girls’ booties two shoes Ruby—snapped 3 times—having gone without a whine or any wine-oh’s—them I disdain with a loud boo’s and jeers from the SOBER 2016 21+ grown crowd, cawing and my choosing to be “Withdraw-ing” with the tasties tasted and taste-ful V. s like at Vicky’s with what unpleasant yeast to choking chicken—what’s with them boys?