Geeked out with the awesome really this awareness of the need for keeping it cool, that, well, I’m cheeky- keeping out at the hour for sour swindles- hey mister, I really like your daughter of her off the top-shelf drinking, calling out off the top “help” is needed for some opiod addicts, attrition, attraction, in the Attic, from where I come unto ye- albeit the timed temperature to stay inside one’s home, the Master Bedroom- my time for independent living in a house, it comes soon, so tight- at night before falling asleep while wifey weeps, for feeling my disdain’t, it can’t it- it ain’t about her umm TAN her skin the color of amber sand in a pento-gram of Petroleum spilled, across the a Cross, the linoleum floor, snoozing the lines of Inositol-SHAMED, and what about a druggie’s parents—are they to exist in hell with the deviant addict derelict drugz-user???
I could have saved a boy, a young man—PITIFUL, PURELY MY PITY—it’s “Davey” who I begged his parents and his shitty family to get him off of heroin and fentanyl…HE NEEDED DETOX! and I called the cops in an effort to have him “saved” and not be a shitty father of 2 kids—him unmarried—that piece-of-shit makes my blood boil! I called the cops when he was high on pills and drank 4 beers at a restaurant, this an hour AFTER HE FELL DOWN at my house and I was forced by my Mom and her shitty family of scum and shit and piss to let him drive me—that I know Dave is suffering so much in Hell—I curse his name, David, he won’t be missed—as I’ve said before, “The worst person I’ve ever known” referring to Dead Dave the Heroin and Liquor Slave!
“It’s nothing anymore to have a beautiful stock body. You see those cars that are completely stock cherry, right out of the dealer’s showroom in 1955, I always think, what a waste.“
Dave comes to mind quite often because THREE TIMES I MADE THE EFFORT TO SAVE HIM!
My Mom said he was off of bad drugs and she said that Dave was “a better man” than me!
I wonder what happened to him, and where he is with God…