Peter L Sargent, I will be at the Jehovah's Witness "Meeting" and you're the "Vile" one Jobs Blowing to me? I wanted to see... if mine own 1 fantasy, my thoughts of Laurie G., would PLEASURE ME!

I remember my object of affection, her, being Laurie, she joined me in my Limousine with a glass of white wine, and I was fine with her pleasing and sexual pleasantries!

But years ago, who her, not a Wore a nice selection of clothing, while listening to me singing simple sultry sentences, of my poetry!

At the shores surely I would be so desiquately delishous the food at my fave restaurant Tee-Ess-Pee, The SP the sole of thesole.com when waitresses wearing Things and Delish like my T.D. of banking, my Dad and Jessica’s Dan, I’m thanking the, them, when... and only long on-line, I’m F-I-N-E finding pleasures immaculate gold necklaces precious my obedience to clean thee, in the faucet’s enchantment ways of me sipping the salt-water laxative that to it, it is keeping me thin where I seek the Lance’s chanting CHAMPION yesteryear with no fear, of Russian’s those jerks with bootie-twerkings working with writing, which Ukraine is fighting!

AND BUT, RUSSIA IS LIGHTING!

And my weight now increased by a few pages of crinkled paper in my The Qur’an — the word of God — are you Charmed ??? with the days drifting and shrinking, my height once “lifted” with weights, and a Breast Lift that I recommend to the older gals so such and sagging, me and my tallywhacker hose- of what who knows... what I will be seen on my Apple (EVE BIT IT, ouch!) while slouched slimy on my couch, my crotch, belt buckle going up one notch- as per the neglegent gentlemen staring—Allah get at me—because I’m truly “Caring” with me nor not to be so Daring as to lend an ear of the amber “wax” with a thimble so simple, to sew the drained salty sewer—the Tesla Roadster isn’t even out yet (hopefully my 50k reservation was made by Dan, I want a car so new—and NEWER—with the castrated folk of the 1800’s my balls, I clutch them—while sticking a still shifted cylinders cycling and DOHC pistons pumping but this only in gas-powered cars that these EV’s are to charge powered-up at the fine locality—have I gotten free of personal-kept SANITY?—that the pills help and me bereft, lacking or without, the faucet is running out of the SHOUT, the talking loud—but never yelling, from the Downstairs Kitchen, the odious treats which I eat, they’re smelling up this place “Averte” with my own Apartment “space” that I’m so rich, and my bleeding skull (in 2004, my www.wrxtbi.com) it may have needed a stitch or two, but that decades-long “TBI Recovery” is almost through—my walk I do just fine WITHIN AND WITHOUT A SINGLE DROP OF WINE!—to this very day that the last time I had a beer was a couple years, ago, for you to know, I shed a tear every time Peter drinks a beer, he’s maybe addicted to, so if he’s a drunk, we’re through, like he asked me about a ford “Escort” that I told him I’ve refrained from paying for patting, her breasts padded, and her ass- to be it so, and thusly, (thrust-fully, thankfully) it PADDLED!