I don't want my Subaru Legacy here in Vermont at "Averte" because I hope to have access to TD Bank soon, I'm thinking for my birthday on The First Day of SPRING born 1982, currently 40 years-old!

Treated but contemptuous the who with the homework of reading Huck to the Finnish, finest filets of fish you ever did see, in late Alaskan February eased into the easy sprays of Febreze, the wind, for the win yes the winner of a prudently contemptuous big bad “Bear” and 50 years-old riding, to the not the Audi TT, no... he’s a big fat guy being behind the wheel of a “Trailer Truck” treated with loyalty, a car’s lifespan of traveling the land of ass hard ASPHAULT covering crevices in the lonely roads of the Southern North-West, milking cows and friends frying up those RED WHITE AND BLUE SUMMERTIME POPSICLES, the fireworks, my introducing Bruce to living legally in N.H. where the boom-snap-crackers livingly viewers open go to the treat—spacial and. special YouTube: Katie Perry - “Fireworks” worth every dinnertime wine and a dotted USD “dime” of 10/10+ sense per perfectly circular in the circuits of gasoline pumps at Mobil 1 oil over-seas, to vacation in Bermuda and the toughguy/toughchick “Tuff Mudder” and warm enough to put in stove pellets perusing the bottom’s coal—reminding me of another Jeff—and the Geoff here at “Averte”—hoping to return to Massachusetts with my kin and NETA “MMJ-approval” Though not getting high in a 1 year+ with my 2 cards of doctor’s approval say so and laying low from ordering anything but plain CBD, I’m allowed here, and not too needy for learning why this gay S&M teacher, J.D., he, yea a HE abused me!

Pointy ass-wipe prick with lit candles dripping wax, my heart has grown in 2005 and 2006 with “protein-peptides” and I’m glad because the doctors in the ICU knew my aorta’s and they shrunk—so as not to grow until I found GHRP-6, Hexarelin, CJC-1295 that brought me back to life and sustaining a single and solitary life without a girl to be my wife—your wife is your life—as all of the downtown men get grimy on the uptown girls, going shopping for leather Harley jacket- for him, and a Coach purse- for her to be non-specific the general pleasantries here—and the non-picky lady prefers pies with peppers and writing a letter, I feel better, jotting the to the jealous junk, my www.wrxtbi.com events have Disabled and Handicapped, me, that yet, I wrote so widow won’t know—and who will Raise the Roof with a woof woof who let the dogs out?

Waking widow, I know, one of her, one of them, eating and resting to return, but bearing harsh winter, winning widow, I like how I know you, who, you, yes, and, you! who plants the seeds of a nature’s fern and pulling an Ace of Hearts <3 <3 <3 to ace the chicken Party People in the house, with a friend and his missing front tooth, but he got a fake one and he was Dana’s and my own “Friend”—with the very desirable Lauren I miss, to her, I could lick my chops at getting a phat piece of her fleshy underbody, Lauren of near my old home, she’s a hot-body and not too “shoddy” for a slim and trim—at the mental-hospitals I’ve gained maybe 10 lbs., worked off the fat thereafter—when I waved goodbye my brief habitat at the stats of college Political “Graphs” of who is winning, re-arranging words to pull them out of context is brimming and humming- taking my Text and Talking to who comes next but my favorite music group of soulful singing and drum-cymbals emanating soundwaves to the concertgoers, That, my 3 times at their concerts—I have listened to hundreds of hours of Taking Back Sunday on the many treadmills, I would have thought I was too sweaty, yes, too hot and what is to trot but walk the walk in the ways of “TBS - Tidal Wave” on YouTube have you seen, “Monster Mean Bean” dranken to day to slurp and up comes a “burp” to let out the excess swallowed air, that recently I clicked on Facebook’s “Care” with my done-up hair today, the left side of my football feet and bald hairstyle of a guy here, who, I’VE CAUGHT THE EMPLOYEE “LARRY” HIDING BEHIND MY BED ONE TIME, AND THEN I CAUGHT HIM HIDING OUTSIDE MY PORCH DOOR- WAITING FOR ME TO GO INSIDE, this isn’t a great place with the faces, the insidious doings in this my place, my Apartment in mint condition, they’ve denied my requests every single time- yeah I have great people in my home state of MA, they look out for me, like my Ma’ my Mom who would sing Billy Joel and Eric Clapton who deserves a Clap in the audience, My Mom’s Ton of love for Fleetwood Mac, Mom, singing those withered toes, to take a seat on the couch when I lived at home, me treating her tootsies with a foot rub and those cute little pink and white socks, so as not to actually touch her wiggly toes- osteoporosis or old age, I will trade Bitcoin for my wage to the wags of a Snail setting sailed shining lightly when the greasy grime, that awful Snail SLIME, I would pour salt on them if I was in the brooding but not breaded the extra “Premium” unleaded GAS of 100+ Octane, stopping for a R.R. “Train” of what wonders concerning the absurd and assuredly speedy SiR’s of my Honda love: