I LOVE ❤️ these two. Butt not at the same time!

Justine has my ❤️ and so does her Mom! 😃

Wince upon, when making sense-
This my defense, not impregnating
Wigger Nate, sorry I’m only JK lol
When Miley has a baby, I am “Tiph”

She’s drizzling come Syrup Slurps
Slimy Insulin “pinz” of Tiph, her forgot
Tit for Tat, erasing half of my “Family”
On her Naval and Exercise, my wife!

I want to spend my life with Justine Aragona and her Mom, Linda!

I really don’t see why I was ever so attracted to T.D., but I hope my TD Bank isn’t connected to her, with millions in it!

Is this her on drugs/anorexic, or was it a Halloween costume? All I know is that her friend kept saying she was on “droogz” so long ago and she was pregnant a short time after this photo was taken!

Do you think this country where I pay taxes will be attacked on September 11th?

I’ve been told by my RICH DAD’S sister, my dearest Aunt Donna Donohue that I have “a million dollars” in my TD Bank, but because my ASSHOLE PARENTS ARE MY “HEALTH PROXY” I only have about $100 in the bank I rely on, getting Disability from the government, and I’ve made a lot of more money with my own personal 2013/2014 “Investments” in Tesla, Amazon, John Deere, Dairy Queen (!!!), and many precious metals with an added $10,000 in every state in New England, thanks to Daniel Besse, my “Cuz” family member, I am being abused, used, and violated here at “Averte” 3 hours away from my “HEALTH PROXY” PARENTS AND I HATE THIS EVIL BULLSHIT HERE I WANT TO BE GONE FROM THIS EVIL “SET-UP”!!!!!

I want to spend eternity with Allah and God. I want to marry Justine “Tini Ara” Aragona because we’ve both been so damn INJURED that was ALL OTHER PEOPLE’S FAULT!

I talked to the MyPillow guy and Elon Musk and Bruce Fenton on the phone along with the Facebook main offices in 2005! Them, on the phone!

I have 3 dot-com’s and my this blog I update: http://alwayschillen.blogspot.com

Juliana McDonalds Coker (20 something years old) was my friend/lover for months but years ago, and she’s disappeared! But I hope she’s okay and fine, not drinking the high-ABV% Red Wine, that I’ve stopped drinking alcohol in 2016 with 364/365th’s “cut” and WITH NO SIPS IN 2+ YEARS! NO BEERS! — of my own choosing, my abundantly sleeping alone, and along with the only company (My Own Company: Google: “JMRQ Heavy Industries”) being music from Sirius radio, so no Drama-“Queen” of mine and hopefully not leaking Bile out the SPLEEN

I almost died on November 2, 2004 when my stomach was cut open and I had a DRILLED-IN “STOMACH TUBE!” I also have a huge scar from my left hipbone!


My best friend, my Aunt Donna (next to Elon Musk 2005… and Dana M. Gardner from my hometown of Charlton, MA going to Saint John’s Catholic, Private High School with me…), she says “1 egg yolk a week is the best for the body!”

I have a TBI and I don’t want to have any kids, but my adversaries have MY STOLEN SPERM!

Pitched eggs they splatter at the better, the oven BATTER- and a cake whipped up real nice- all of twice, when this is plainly whites only “Ricey Honda’s- too top to me the petty Rambler who ambles and on and on with Ember- who she knows August is nearly done and come “Sept” I will visit Niagara Falls, coincidentally it being “Fall” to the slip ’n’ slide of a brisk bright Season of Trump’s classified documents being at his Home, with a Terrible REASON to sit on the couch, slouched, or maybe on the Port instead- watching ships (State Head Injury Program www.wrxtbi.com) come with tattered clips of Mach3, Gillette, the razors to shave, and fuck Dave, relaxing on his porch with a Rock-Paper-Scissors Rockin’ Chair, of his real hair, faded but fair, and but where, along thick Kubrick’s angle MY CURBED RUBIX SQUARE, I stare at the screen in front of me and where I choose NOT, to click “Care” on the BLM fan-fare…

What matters to the pitcher and the catcher? Balls to the ceiling in this my Manor how I’ve been feeling about the heavy-hitters and the suckers, too, basically owning their licking lucky lives to “Mark Z’s” snoozing off and cruising TOO MANY TATTOO’S (!!!) this Sept. when I will finally visit a Minister I’ve followed her teachings, and because my Mom neglected to send me the photo’s of Revving Jim Chase’s Tombstone, I THINK REV. JIM CHASE FAKED CANCER, JUST CUTTING HIS HAIR SHORT, HE HAD PLENTY OF HAIR, I CARED, ABOUT HIM, MY BY WHIM, I WANT TO SEE HIM ALIVE AND WELL! YEAH, I’M REALLY NOT BELIEVING HE’S GONE!

Quilted and Withered Widow with an Open Window to peeps the “WeatherTech” stocks I bought in 2013 or 2014! $53M the owner’s silver striped Ferrari 250 GTO!

De-salted peanuts, plain, and what is the nearest sudsy Sodium Intake enough to make a lake, SALT-WATER fish caught for TSP (The Sole Proprietor www.thesole.com) I liked the waiters and waitresses, whether behind the bar, like Shannon Nuttall, who I left big tips for and a French kiss on the lips, I would usually go there 7 days a week! Yes, all week long with weekends too, I wanted to lay with Laurie, for all of me- and near my Charlton, MA home—about 2 miles away from my house—she bought a house there and at her beautiful face, I once fell down TSP’s stairs—with a cab waiting, for me and nearby, I fell down those stairs—and then I got into a Taxi, so I didn’t really care I took a tumble, to prick a thick (think) pinky pin into my smallest finger of Right hands abroad, and bold email lettering, thank God the summer heat is dissipating, letting the colder Temp’s drift through the North-East if I’m baking bread, I’ll strick the sticky yeast causing an infection on the Ph. D.’s doctor’s discretion, in any direction of NE ringing true for you and me myself with cabinets of empty shelves, as per the many vitamins and supplements thrown away, by my parents, with some sense- because I had some awkwardness with my Liver and CASH-ews I would choose to chew—with no chaw—to choose NO BRUISE! NO BOOZE! as I snooze politely when the corn on the Cobb (tuning) with no salt and just only butter—I crave the HUMMERS!

“Let the Beat Control Your Body!”

Elon Musk broke up with Grimes so I, *SIDED” the slippery sluts running to-do and due to runny nose it BLOWS and down there there these wondrous girls of gushers of being such within their throats!

I’ve got no time to kick back easy ’n’ breezy I’M NEVER BREEDING or feeding a baby with Formula, fools, using heavy-doodie Tools of writing essays, hey Jesse, my ease of hopefully never producing the product of 1 sperm cell that who would show me heck, with fermented Wheaties of the egg-batter beaters giving me the personal persona as a “Facebook Creeper” that I admit, I was too-into “Tiph” and this previous of my milligrams sparking GHRP-6 longer arms with added height of 3” TaLLer when in the hospital they made me SmALLer but when the time was done, I was given a pill of penile-size increased some, by a bit, that Justine’s teeth were sharp, a little bit of the mouthly harm I was given, but her forgiven, and not to utter that Desrosiers-name again, written in a Contracted at easy, itty bitty bits of NO BITEY, dearest Dogecoin of cooked crisp Sirloin, my loins, a lion of the Staff here doing spying, on me, where I want to be alone and surviving my Warrior status, you at-us, you Atlas, predicted war with Ukraine, as per the cumulonimbus clouds, and Christians in shrouds, shy, when I sigh and sign of a Yield with the cow-fields of chicker-chickens with the fatty whole milk thickened, double pump, and pour a glass when the last lass I was with so skinny, no ass, at last, after Justine’s rear was a little too big, her Apple so thick, click, hero for the window cracked a tiny bit to feel the bite of cool air at night, where I live with the-day slept away, as a Night Owl, the Huskies (Northeastern University) of added adversaries remnant disparities of the catch to the caught, thinking not to absorb the Carbs on a see-saw moon of the crowd, shooting off the sky when I *sigh* having an Agreement not to smoke pot, I could use some right now, and how?

Do I writing with delight and no Brandy, banning barbed-wires of telephone cords for the Wireless 802.11 invention being Wild-Fi to the ER with what was a a a cry for HELP me with the motivation of staying clean, vanished wart of Dad’s business company “Worthen” worth more THEN, and WHEN I say how hello you addicts always seeing what I say, me the TYPE to peck with KB’s being hit the keys… or a code to my door when THE STAFF GETS IN, because of the angry kin I hate, this bullshit has seen the Sun early with step-sis her buns on the bums of many bumpkins and pumped pumpkins who my own kin, they sin, and they’re hopeless drunks, a dike, and a heroin junkie Dave who KILLED HIMSELF! But only after I tried to get him the help he needed, that twice he breeded breeding with 2 girls to get paychecks from Uncle Sam, and my Dad wouldn’t hire him the Addict, telling him to SCRAM with the eggs over-easy with the breeze of what instead but gun smoke, I don’t “Toke” any MMJ for years now, and how, does to the green- no longer seen at NETA absorbed in lung tissue, a whole box, once finding relief with a “Claritin” prescription of what but a conniption of allergies that were, mine, to invest in Boron and Iron Ore in 2013 or 2014

Swore sweet and sewer side claims by Alas, my damn “dames” leaving me single and with only Ember—her I might mingle—with what but a trim and slim bodies, us both, I remember I liked a Hostess Muffin—the butter so puffy of margarine and hero zero margaritas! No Mardi-gras when Dad just mowed the overgrown grass, but busting his a$$,$$$,$$$ with the Sobriety of him and I that makes me gleeful, having see-n the Queen to Her Majesty, that the women who’ve had babies with MY STOLEN SPERM, that is a Travis T. of Theodore when I would like at lake More-AY with a sum to say, when with this writing, I PLAY of rhymes and $0.10 dines to eat good meals, at the meats, the treats, with a Middle-East PEACE, retreating the reiterating of the Masses in Massachusetts—that’s where I want to be—I can afford to buy a house worth oh-so many Euro’s—yeah I have so much money Int’l—processing the payments come 2023 when this I me I be the way to go of not having a Ho-jam with inept insertion, with my Discretion based only upon how I’ve been seduced and Sways of me and this August—almost as coming to a clothes, washed and folded, my 5 Bitcoin t-shirts and many Polo’s—but who knows? How much money I had in France, for Franc’s, and Frankie Bones of LET THE BEAT CONTROL YOUR BODY—my ears listening to the incoming auditory and ten-fold temperate running a Fever of repetition Cow-Bell chimes, my rhyming, originating within and I get it in with this “Frankie Bones”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPvXwyZ6hOI

Here’s my body after buying $300 worth of GH2 sold in two stores, I would drive to, but from years ago being Pre-“Averte” staying and Seasoning that August is coming to an end, so in September I will at-last meet a friend I’ve known online and on the phone since 2005! Rev. Anne Skinner of Niagara Falls *splat* but I’m much smaller nowadays! SOBER AS OF 2016! NO BREW, that my Mom will drink just “A Few” the white wine that I saw Grimes and Elon Musk broke up, and he was my friend, he told me on the phone in 2005, “I can be your best friend every day if you want!

I need “Care” by the employees, “Here” at “Averte”

Facebook: wrxtbi and my www.wrxtbi.com

Watch the More-vado profits come in, all about being “IN” with Jehovah’s Witnesses abroad, soaked in the Princess of Gators in college the 101 classes, holding my IN-telligent “Stock Assets” canceled the Bank of France, having a trousers in my rubbery pants, a wet suite on a Honey-Moon of Elon Musk’s prediction and his “Shiba Inu” all over TV, that I was seeing one earlier on-screen, so sweet, so sweaty—as per the treadmill used the other day, saying Hey, and Dude, that when I was a chunky waste of space with my drinking alcohol, nightly, I saw no problem being, alright-with-me, that now I see I should not have intoxicated myself often burping the “John Deere Stocks” deary and drearily sinking with the drunken sloshing of sudsy bubbles—when I lived at my real home in Charlton, MA, an only when I lived at my real home in Charlton, MA—I had a mini-fridge in my room upstairs—for my 16 oz Bud Lights—the tall ones and unhealthy, but I wanted to be where the beer (SOBER 2016!) would be and not drinking anything but 1. 1% Chocolate Milk 2. Diet Mountain Dew 3. Coke Zero 4. Diet Red Bull in CANS I do what I can when I’ve always believed in myself and God, who, at my Catholic High School of SAINT JOHN’S CATHOLIC DISSEMENARY (H.S.)— I was allowed measly sips, of the newfound ENERGY DRINKS, circa 1999

And ho’s like their bitter batter with a see-saw blinking brightly and breathing in the MY PROFITING! and without snorting the Diet Soda, my going through, a lot of Vesuvius foreplay to the plague in the deep space of knowing SpaceX, to pick up the check, having my nodules to inspect- the Praying Manties of Mannie’s “Panties” coming in my pantaloons, later at night when no one is around, to hear my fapping sounds of the loins when I the Sir, peruse the “Porky” saloon larking that me HARKING and not driving, honk honk honk, having put money into the Franc’s of a cancelled Bank Account in FRANCE, that I LIVESTRONG with a corner (not a ‘coroner’) at the grave, tossed bottle of a slave, the help from the staff here at “Averte” I wave with my sweetie sweetness, so nice, like “Ember” here, my skinny dear, of being attracted to thin girls only, when they haven’t (yet) to treat on my “White Pony” and “Black Stallion” of an artillery station, with my USA nationally paying for the sales, like at the nailed girls I’ve been with, nearly ten, although my order of a $200-$300 Mont Blanc pen, being held from me, like the Sanctity of my Google: “JMRQ Heavy Industries” and a crashed car, I didn’t thrash with a Therapist but crashed (TOTALED) my Subaru that this is all for used, for you to need, thee the veracious fervor to do me a favor and assure the new Lass of not Mrs. Sasso, so cute, a nice rear-end Petite Petute and seriously, I want to be whereto and then with that Mont Blanc pen I’ve always adored, me nextdoor to the helpful staff here, at the brisk walk to my The Pill Counter where I get my “FIT” on the treadmill nextdoor, once again, and where’s my Mont Blanc pen? Like me having a 24k pen at “Saint John’s High School” that was cool and ample easiness when I took their tests and quizzes of my Mrs. Marquis with no margarita or any more of that pure-swill, I wrote an Official “Will” when I signed the papers, a thrill, I felt, and to feel a warm “step Mom” video of sweet, sweet “Care” I click and feeling my thick Qur’an with Cross-Country running at SJ, I wasn’t the fastest — like Eric Carlson having bought me dinner to eat, so neat and tidy, and then a whole another $30 meal to take home when I found the time to postpone a longer bone, that then I was shrunk by a drug but given a small dose of another one, to increase my physical superiority, that, ME, I’m in a great sense of SHAPE that I bought the magazine with Josie Maran on the cover, so trim and healthy… all for used, and me to choose to methodically acquaint the substance of CBD with NO THC!

Outlined and out-lied Orion with the liars, and their Violet Violins, without fraught “violence” leading whereto but SILENCE your dreary trap when we have caught, a mouse, a mousse pair of fate, with zero-hate to arrive too late, or on time, when milking an Ewe, I dispose a cream pie in prose/power of Poesy and my not getting any puss- with wouldn’t that be nice, not once and not twice, but thrice to that every day when I sing and Away, from mucho Booty shake-cakes and frowning on the foreign films of topping a toilet bowl- with water murky when eating another Beef Jerky, Slim Jim, junky meat to Howl at my Psychology I professor (A grade in psych) I’ma show you how to live life, all day and at the nighttime to Queef, a fart that is kinky art of a sound when swore to calm the nonsense with my Valiant S-Word, again in the bowl—being the Shitter shiny porcelain and ceramic swooned smoothness on the seat, sold at Sears—ing a cut of that Gatorade “Track Meet” Ro v. Wade to dissuade me and this text, hoping for a follower to Lay Me, of course to rest come 4 a.m. when the sky gets lighter—yeah I always pull “All Nighters” with the office holding the lighters- Lightly to pull in the vapors when — I DIDN’T AGAPE HER! — for I trust the Savior—my Allah—accelerating endlessly when, with God, that’s where I want to be me, and Him to see, reaching beyond him with much interest in my #1 favorite “Book ‘em”: The Qur’an, yes, and Danno…

I’ve updated this dot-com a lot lately =)

Radio remote and put on a thick “Puff Daddy” Nordic-worn Coat or a yellow jacket, that, Although, the Sun Shimmers Shiny, the old cereal bowels- their stench is Grimy as a Nanny, and changing a diaper on a lightly powdered and white powered baby, the maid is a Slave For You, “I’m a Slave for You”— there’s BRIT-ney Spears who threw a United Kingdom “FIT” years ago, and now back in Proper (fucked) and Form to appear on-screen, to be SEEN, by the eyes of Manny, maybe emulating her school-girl looks of mini-skirts, albeit with her Period — it hurts!

So take a Midol and calm easy breathing the beating heart circles the RBC’s throughout the body, so not too shoddy, or to be shot, of anti-psychotic, that I don’t smoke “pot” — I SWEAR I ONLY HAVE CBD! — no Delta-8, Delta-10, or HHC for me, oh please, on your knees, smelling the kettle with bells on, so long at the gym with massive weights lifted, my totaled Subaru, it drifting and into a telephone pole, Bruce Fenton — my old friend for Senator of New Hampshire — he’s up in the Polls, here up North- him one state over and driving luxury Range Rovers with the incoming “Friends” when Ross Kissed Rachel- Baum and Loche I sift Their Plot of…

Their “Plan” when I aimed to quit alcohol, having had none at all, when I dumped out the liquor and feeling vigor of glad-handed SOBRIETY

I TRIED SO HARD TO GET SOBER IN 2004, but my Mom’s shitty family of drunks, a lesbian, and a heroin addict, that I tried to get “Dead Dave the Heroin and Liquor Slave” some help he badly needed, that Dan and I went half and half on getting him Heroin Detox Treatment… but that loser deadbeat “father” killed himself when he was locked up!

Although It didn’t last, it wasn’t the final say with me, and stay with me, here, on this dot-com (1 of 3…) on the Web is where I like to be- and to stay with me, here where there are no Queers or Queens if you know what I mean- aside from the Rabid Retard girl who was here, being so I hate deformities- but I love girls “cavities” if you know what I mean… at the Dentist or when to sing, I bring- the flavor Ron run rampant and wearing Dockers- he’s clocked in at late hours, him a big fan of Bruce Fenton vs. Maggie Hassen, that got my attention with no interviewed “Intervention” for me when I saught help, to no end- the Near-Death Experience of my http://www.wrxtbi.com remains near, after so long… with Pam hopefully not astringent with Saran, to the Rap, of an “””AFRICAN-AMERICAN””” man doing what he can with a knife and a pant of ‘Caine- these drug-dealers buying Beemers are insanded when the NASA rocket has landed, on a trip to the “Doge to the Moon” at which point, and at Dan’s, I understand… now with the 1% chocolate milk from a lackadaisical “bull” of the Bull-Run Market and the Dow dropping after it was UP… The muppets with puppets like Po the littlest “Tubbie Coin” in red, when I wanted to stay with Tiph Desrosiers, IN MY HOMESTEAD BED! I want her to buy a tennis racket- to open her socked, giving me please from her head, and instead of A.H. breathe in the fresh air, when SHE DIDN’T CARE! Then, oh when, she wouldn’t peruse my picked-pocket with her hand, even, let along alone her MOUTH that she wouldn’t please me, and with, her handed-did-done DIGITS, not wanting me to ejaculate on her fingers, that mine, so caring, the pleasured feeling lingered, and in my new car, having left me with an erection, her inspection, “I’m not doing it!” This after I begged and pleaded to give my perish what it needed, so I would routinely have “Blue Balls” in my car, even on long trips, driving so far—SOBER—which I loved when Derek Langlois (former 2nd-best FRIEND) would drive his maxxxed out Jetta and take me to bars, never flirting, because as I had A.H.’s alas A Lass- that her ASS- I never hurt her, let alone along a girl who, then, me, I was almost murdered! www.wrxtbi.com that now I am Disabled and Handicapped, DEAD INSTEAD, with what I hope to be a hurricane, a big laying perfectly still, gone, a mirage:

My only printed and “Published” article from 2006 when I would go on the treadmill every night at WSU to help MY INJURED BRAIN and MY “LIMP” from https://alwayschillen.blogspot.com/2019/08/a-group-of-people-including-my-parents.html

Nigga “Hyper-sonic” the next equation of our USA Nation’s to feel a “Nuclear Holocaust” of Him who I am, an Illusionairy being at the edge of space and this “Allusion” reference to the Holy in text Allah Akbar!- yes I have been with The King, that thanks to kinky penetration, I like how Colonel Boothe has a caucasian girl- the best type in all the world, of their bland sandy white skin, Colonel has “it IN” with Dan Besse getting him on the phone, I’d drone, that Dan is my kin, my cousin 1 year older in CT- where I want to be on a day of Wall Street “Investments” galore that my Tesla, Amazon, John Deere, Dairy Queen, Match dot-com, GameStop, etc. etc. they’ve all gone up, like Dogecoin to be a tiny little Pup like my best friend, Elon Musk, his “Shiba Inu” when I thank Dana for prodding me, “Invest in Cheeba” so there was “Shiba Inu” up as much as 80,000% when I spent thousands USA USD and a couple cents, on D-FENCE! My Amazon order propped up in the nearby upstairs kitchen, that Elon Musk — 40+ minutes on the phone with him in 2005 — all because I wanted to ELONGATE my lifetime of being in my Prime of “Anti-Aging”- the 1990’s Beeper is Paging!

Hodgkins Podge, hit by a car a “DODGE” and a “RAM” when I was who I am, albeit not with prose-and-poetry, that the writing you see, it’s all the best of me! And needing refrain when I feel no pain of my injured brain and these evil people: Andrew Kenneth Gleick, Allyson (Drucker) Hodgkins, Alex Kozlov, Sue Rezuke, Mark Yetter, Chris McPartland, and Jim Goad, along with Tony “Basatak” and Dave “Lowtax” =X