Suffocating and, Iron Chef's "Plating" and playing with yourself- you're a mess!

A lot more at my www.jeffreymarquis.com !!!!!

Well to the, my wallet right here, placed grams of gold—I implore you, buy precious Bullion- that’s a notion, with a heavy-loaded of my pockets swinging with motion—the ounces of pressed coins, they are literally pressing at my loins, these silver coins and Lego-silver, 1 for Mom, 1 for Max—appreciating my gifts from them to receive like it's now the month of March, springtime, no shizzle “shivering” to cold temperatures in recent old-timers say TIMBER!

Down cometh a sawwed tree-tops, licking my lips and treasuring the police who protect us, Cops, armed and reading consumer complaints off of screens or sheets, of paper—obey the speed limit—it’s okay if you arrive umpteen minutes LATER for an aparted apparent approximation of Congratulations, Congress, the house is finely clean with NO MESS from the stove-top or kitchin’ sink or flowin’ Silk shirts to take a well-needed drink of the chocolate milk with one-perfect percent fatty tissues ***ahhh-chooo*** day at the zoo, feeding the “Lion’s Mane” mushrooms all not too soon I don’t take any mo’ mushrooms — no not the drugs — bequeathing hGH “Stallone”—his mansions, his homes—back in the U.S.A. when the Australian laws caused temporary dismay, what the hey, I got 3.5” taller (I was given shots to make my legs shrink...) and my arms length increased by 2.5” but those, too, are shrunken many years ago, so that's all to see folks!

For a short time people looked at me, somewhat STRANGELY, me a muscle marauder two decades ago, and never again, the Insulin pin—one at a time—having collected (corrected-ly) a “sharps” container, clean, with no AIDS like them fags—trans sexual-ality not welcome here, so stay away from my “rear” I take it with me everywhere I go—so, no, I distain a fag’s cross-dressing!

DISGUSTING!