Faggot discussed-ed

With winning what but I am an amethyst saloon swinger catching the drift if what but only if… only if I get a spliff lit, coming with it, to buy the crated case of butternut roses, of oh if only, the irony, on oh the iron—it’s getting too many flamers calling for a soul’s banter at the what can’t she do, while being bending, putting on a red ruby shoe—one of two—so with winded lungs and wild antics, she pulls up to the curb- ever so speaking easily with Dom to be dominated—the organ forsaken and post-boned shake-it on a skillet when the iron grills it of out the creases and the baked buns—their yesterday’s greeting along the camaraderie see ya! that them buns of your “hun’s” with straight intentions only so suffice the dereliction of my text being purely chivalry to the King on his agenda…

But with all of this “TRANNY” SHIT, the King has always been a male “on His ummm GENDER

Hear here and near ‘n’ dear, me meaning measly poetry!

college boys lol

You can feel free to imply, the nighttime-lyrics are all MINE and coming from ME, with what you see on my dot-com domains of delight, when I write at night and until morning, that’s when I’m treated to a textual journey of daily-do little poetry stories, with me the Subject notebook of Five-Star notes in a book, cost a lot and quality-made, those notebooks divided to classes like Calculus, what a fuss, and Geography, that’s the Rand-McNally idolatry, for me, wanting and hoping I’ll be able to visit even for only most of a day, Israel: our ally, The Holy Land, covered so Sandy here, overweight with a smaller rear—than that big but on a bimbo turns me off—I’m not a []D [] []V[] []D though by any tiny bit of a floozie’s itty-bitty yet so bulbous when a light goes on, and because John here is overweight by a whole lot, he wears thongs and talking under his breath when I see him — that jerk, he’s at work because the sudsy Residents here—they’re unstable—they’re unable to handle—my handle: “jmarquis710” and “alwayschillen” and “wrxtbi” and “JMRQ Heavy Industries”

That’s all me.

At Saint John’s private Catholic School my SAT’s were 1080 I did on my snowboard sometimes in 1999-2004

With what comes from the jingly girls who wear put jelly and jam and ham and cheese- oh but also Peanut Butter on a masterpiece of a Magistraight’s meal a big fat SAMMICH!, that I hate this trend of “Trans” freaking freaky-deaky delinquents Dearie, Miss Acapulco crazy and thinking a pecker at the keys like me, mucho proud to be a male with a generous body of gift-giving for the girls here at “Averte” or “Trillium Life Services” now—there’s some farmland nearby with money milk-ed cattle grazing fresh pastures of I’ve given up alcohol long around some-time-ago 2016 no more beer or liquor, with the exception of my Brother Justin demanding I have a beer in a restaurant years ago—I haven’t driven a car in a couple years, as my Subaru Legacy resides in Charlton, MA there ma’am Mom and papa Dad—and it’s going to be sold, I have 2 gold bars in my wallet, carry silver ounces, jiving and surviving with minimal cash—having precious and previously much, much more!

I’ve collected the first 3 or 4 years. of Bitcoin Magazine that sell for hundreds or some thousands each, a piece, like a puzzle when I cackle at the Johnny Mac who won’t be my Facebook (NASDAQ: FB) investmented invested, tested clean!

You want “Street Cred”, well I’ll feed you with my paid-taxes that I’ve always paid taxes, to “The Fed” the government with an Incorporated business in my nuclear (I pray for peace!) family who, yeah my Trust Fund is accumulating more mo’ munition at moment and me loving my Marquis Family (AIM: “Marquis Parents”) they pay about $20k each month for “Rent”—me happy here at “Averte” when I love talking with my Aunt Donna Donohue—she knows they feed me delicious low-carb food, and although I’m not working out much or at all, I stand sort of tall but under six feet, here at “Averte” I’m fed well with my groceries—I don’t have my car here, it’s safe at home in Charlton, MA—3.5 hours away—a good GPA, higher than my own, a 2.8 at a very difficult Saint John’s Private School, every weekday, and Catholic that my Class of 2000 are largely Islamic, and I’m no different! That one more time my GPA was only 2.8!

I read the full Intro of an Economics textbook and I learned everything about how money works, an Advanced Placement or Senior year usually, class with the Juniors and the Seniors, but after the first few chapters in the book, with the 3 Chapter Introduction, explaining the what-you-need-to-know “Intro” I knew what the fundamentals were and I dropped the class because it was all numbers that were boring and I didn’t have any friends in the class of older guys, it was taught in the Biology room, when I was out soon, but I’m telling you, the beginning of the book had me so interested I READ IT TWICE in detail, then skimming it for a 3rd time, I may have sold the book, or not sold the book, but I remember that classroom with Mr. Hook of Biology when 9/10th’s of my classes I’ve never been kicked out!

Yeah, as I said my GPA was only 2.8 with hard classes and 1080 SAT’s, I was accepted to Northeastern University for almost $100,000 Tuition

Derek Langlois bought a Home really he did!

Luxury woman. Sport car and luxurious butt woman. Sexy ass near golden brown sports car on luxury background


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

randomwordgenerator.com: witness, seat, canvas

Rear End a bumper, that’s a thump to a her, a female driver being SOBER and yet distracted by what the “actions” were to be upset and riddle the junkie pulling out an Ace—her eyes, her face, with what masterpiece her face is, knowing her succulent lips are in the right places, North and SoCo that’s the lingo of a floozy timepiece politely pleasing her wrist, to be kissed, and so it is Wish-Wish getting laundry and sultry on a Friday night what delighted candles, and her online handles, treated like a tike-  training wheels on her pink shimmery 1300cc super-bike speeding and greedily passing through the lanes, marked with sharp… re-flexing her glutes, doing Squats gym-side and treadmill time of stride after stride, stretched like a itchy stringy thing—but not what you think, when she cares and so wears her hairs absent—so WAXXED—watch what happens with our MAGA aghast, choppers and chompers being harassed when walking so swift, on the nightly boulevard, that is, if you catch my drift—in the snow—so cycling is a no-no when it’s cold outside, slipping on rubber wheels, in summer Planted—the Keebler Elves of caliber point well who knows?

Fudge it, push the translucent glowing throttle, that, hey “Do you remember those shugary energy drinks?”

Full Throttle—to buy some? You really aught to, invoking the Vocational Vocabulary of a one-armed “Shop Class” teacher, telling students to be prudent and precise when they slice that wood up nice and 9 ways solid—Concrete… Got it?

A crow cackles out the window, when a crowbar is employed under a mischievous man with maybe hemmed dress-pants on, being worn, and when sworn into Microsoft Oh I suffice with no hair lice—that I am chilled by the icicle, calling a circle 360 when what would have been, should have been it aught to be Ira 360 esteemed with added density, should I be talking about Jimmy Cassidy? having been a roommate at a failed University, skipping classes but hmm call it very politely? Who knows, EAT AT JOE’S for the sloppiest of beef, being grass-fed cattle, get back in the saddle staying still so as not to sway—or “shiver me timbers”—Pink Timbs I wrote about recently, Publishing golden gold ever-then silently, turning down the 2-lips with my injured skull’s “cranium” I don’t even think about what a Twinkie for dessert that is filled with the ooey-gooey white C.R.E.A.M. when “Cash Rules Everything Around Me” when I hope to soon order 1 banknote that is with $2 in value, the two-dollar bill, I salute you and you and you—but not you the reader, that is, if—and only if—you have no seeds in The Bird Feeder, out back with sirloin steak simmering grill-side, the chef’s (Jeff’s) remarks “tricky” + “snide” on the wayside of when I wonder, what publication I may sweetly seek, as soon as in a week? I’m too weak to be again Published, like in my “Le Mirage” article made it to The Student Voice on-campus news-paper when in winter you have to use the ice scraper, Ludwig, and wings on a tree—shy by nature—not bcoz I really, truly miss chatting with John Coz of ECM Plastics, Inc. where him and my Dad, similar $$,$$$,$$$ holdings—Hold On for Dear Life!—to HODL crypto-currency a canvas my parents returned!

She sells seashells by the boneyard!

See it?

My kitchen in my “Averte” apartment!

I sit pretty and sit don’t I sit pretty, only fairly, still sitting back and drinking Seltzer for a liquid 0 calorie snack!

Paul my Saint John’s Class President and Rest In Peace Wes!

Come along, come on, sing-ing a whatever kind of song, to the end, to bodily-suspend that pair of black under-waerz, taken on soon, so nothing else to ease my curiosity of what but the go-getter’s bowling-ball in that rubber rubbing gutter thrown to trash of one’s one own—my $BONE profitable and able to once have seen horses here—that apparently Paul (another Paul, here working at “Averte”) he owns one on his land, near to me here—far from my real “HOME” in Charlton, MA with Mum ’n’ Pops wearing summertime flip-flops like a decidedly pleasant mocking of my mood—when it comes to audacity and Allah-cracity it’s the way I now am only by choice of fingers’ voice to hoist up the Gallows when the nig-nogs hide behind the color of Melanin—their nighttime mischeif- police see their shadows, on these front-door cameras being on Fox News, only, that means no other of Chanel’s channels to be perused—my dialect… my intellect… I call home with 1-800-COLLECT standing upright cool and calm, with minty Chap-Stick on—always, it’s addictive I hear—that kissable “BALM” with no Funky Effing bombs, and being dropped from what but the B-52’s loving the smoked inhalations of a SMACK love smacking that booty of my #1 honey bunny with a lot of money, the Queen of mine, has had her all, has been with Allah of Allah’s owning the Solar System—I said “Goodbye planet Earth”—something about her anus of hers—YOUR ANUS—Uranus—until sincere sunshine shone through the window, that I thankfully made it back from Destination: “God” with a pelvic piece’s prodding that had me nodding, her perfectly still and silent, with not a muscle moved—is she asleep???

Space Mountain

Anyways to the T’s & to the A’s I was so inclined with a could-do achievement without bereavement, that I mean you and future partner’s no harm, reaching out from the Universe with my Disabled and Handicapped arm—feeling that B-cups ‘o’ Daisy—there’s nothing wrong with and without you, who… or ME! that’s merely me and able to see the light’em up at the end of the proverbial “Tunnel” of once $TUBBIES—now erased and did I invest in that with love for a Tidy-Gunk “Deposit” at the deposition of Mister and Misses Derek LANGLOIS, that he made a choice to sick’em Kimmy with the translucity of being about to able my hearing, so endearing, hearing voices, “he made a choic-es” of preferring VEGGIE pecans over anyone “Trans” and/or chocolate—with exception of the African-American “Ernest” with the Dodge SRT-4 of my joining forces with my Mom and Dad—so unto Challenging I became of a “channeling” to Chandler Gardens of my fabulous destination (a quick walk to the Gym) like a Vacation of living alone, the L-shaped sofa and a large and larger desk with a designer tidy chair, when my 52” TV was stolen—I pulled out my hair—but, only, in order to resemble the bald smoker who stole that $1000 TV from my apartment at C.G. when I listened to “Lustral- Everytime” earlier that has the most loving and logical, awaiting a smooch and tentacle tongue—Tantric—that’ll do the trick of a time I’m due for—without wine—whither my lack to subdue a whimsical riding of Glad Tidings to have step-sis suck this Delirious tooth-less ’n’ TITE way to wonder what’s first as per an avenue of a nekkid girl, to view, when my writing has become Askewed with trashy “GOT HER” junk in the swerving vehicle, HICCUP, so don’t drive drunk you inconsiderate asshole, you punk!

I’m on the cusp of eating a rusty pizza crust!

Come to the collaborated CRUST, the pinnacle where Islam is ” A MUST ” with the laid-then gusts of winding down while without my MMJbut now legally allowed in Vermont—I think not, maybe (as per my parents) who control me, control my mail I receive—that I haven’t heard anything about my official group on Google: “JMRQ Heavy Industries” where I be found, if you want to scrounge, being on my dot-com’s and handles across the w-w-w blah blah blah dot-com

I’ve set up shoppe and I won’t stop, where, here and within the races of different places (contained) with coins of various continents I have Khambutistant bullish bulldozed bills on my refrigerator, which came on a Freight Train of back-breaking [ brackets ] when hitting the brakes on collecting foreign bills- the staff looks at me ill and wonder why, Heavens to Bette and Bethany, why would I care about Currencies?

Well I like CURRENT events that make sense in multitudes of bodily and mental concentration—me here at moment, like currently, on my TV screen there’s Fox News to be seen… after ditching two years worth of CNN viewing—snacks chewed and swallowed with galloping horses in a nurse’s time for a cig, if you get the jib of some smokers who without or with succumb to the intention of “lighting up” with a cup, of water, and unsalted crackers, to extinguish unwanted flames or sea-landers in suspenders, Suspended reached reactions of parents’ kids getting banned from school, when they’ve a been Smoking In The Boys Room, while a janitors in the lunchroom sweeping up what but THROW-UP and vomiting voluptuous breasts by my knees—I need—some Vixens…

With all the Fixin’s!

Co-op the spy to thusly mine of my own

decline the declaration of ISIS nation

all natty “Bratty Sis” of who’s enjoyment

Delerium Tremens tie my pants in a trance

And “Dental” getting “Implants” all chesty

With mine thinny thin thin, Tests in school

Cataclysmic to the my Late Uncle Mickey

In the house where be kempest a mouse!

Trapped tits with innie-minnie stretching – 

The Splits, but sans bananas and bandanas

Como say “Camels” Transcen-“Dental”

Cavities, seditiously displayed for-front

Ladies’ “BUNTS” — of tanned sweet “Buns”

Changing my handle to bang on the Trunk

Of Trumpets and Donald Trump supporter

To the hands on the keyboard, gangbanging

Trip first in at Saint John’s post-graduation

To tip the glass of wearing spectacles

And my McMahon size testes tested