https://depositphotos.com/227999080/stock-photo-luxury-woman-sport-car-and.html

With what Butt?

And with what but a stick to click SHIFT on a transmission clutch purse your lips to feel the dips and feeling the highs of only CBD, for those who go without Esctasy named on-stage as “Starlips Stacy” showing thrusts from her hips with kisses them lips of love in a hurricane—some sludge soldier HURLING and hurting inside—the shorty shots at the bar are no more—what’s in store for the puking alcoholic, laying waste to the polyester of Creatine Ethyl Ester I go without “supps” but to make way for the WHEY in chocolate flavor to savor the Savior named “Allah” back at a bar, thinking I didn’t go far enough, with my half-way through God’s great “Illusion” at the Edge of Space—my trail to the end of the universe, I TRACED MY ACCELERATION of being Delivered to Him as per choosing a perfectly laser-straight line through “Space and Time” all I could do was Marvel Comics—Spider-Man #365 for $$$ in mint condition, running modest influition paying tuition to the Tantric banter of what Missy Manners—man hands to the me with dollar-terry animosity albeit with proceeding “Care” in the air and bleeding between her legs-  over easy of an ovary albumen sizzled with a STEP-SISTER hey mister I really like your daughter, talking taking one when I shall agree to marry the one Hun unto me and of mine—a female shrine—worthy of prayers while sipping in the air via both nostrils worn of the stink and stick-shift of adultulation videos on-screen—some of this sludge, or oh boy keep it clean or you’ll be p-due obscensical with the intransical Universal Pictures of Watters World—and “Waterworld”—through Kevin Costner alone—Jesse Watters sipping from a muddy puddle, what’s the HASSLE—I’ll hook your cowboy with a lasso—Be and so Sassy, classy after the camaraderie between an image of your facial and washed—to squish a shallow squid with a iron paddle—get at’ter after reeling in a freshwater bass fish succumbing to a 15” subwoofer sounding hollow with the low tires Tide a bleach, poured out on The Beach with Leonardo DiCaprio that I was to seen be viewing in the dark as per a movie theater, the movie moved me and my towels washed clean—of a creamy white saucy sausage CREAM—if you know what I mean—through and through to swallow the glue when sniffed I missed my $$,$$$,$$$ Deported Deposit of a French Bank—oh Dad yeah my Dad he was made that I was once tickled by Jell-O shots at the Days End a “bar” of what but a location across the street from me in Oxford, MA @ 288 Main Street with a landlord, Mike, an ex-cop who he would do “maintenance” and I myself, feeling the pre-Sobriety liquorished “trance”—BUT I WOULD NEVER BE “TRANS-SEXUAL” with my STRAIGHT WORKINGS of I being Yours Truly—the finality of desecration of the Hatian nation and those with herpes—HER P.erformance E.nhancing S.ubstances—sudsy soapy with me in the shower that thank God I’m not dirty, maybe taking a shower tonight or tomorrow mourning—“Zoom” doesn’t work, so no JW meeting I want Rev. Anne Skinner of “Hannah House” $150 donation weeks ago, to attend the JW (Jehovah’s Witness) meetings

PETER L. SARGENT IS A GREAT MAN! I’m thankful to have had meals at The Sole Proprietor (once I took a limo there) and I wish I could “coulda bought me a house” buy a house in Charlton, MA!

227 Derek Langlois THE NERVE OF ME, me nervous about Russia, China, North Korea, and Iran