Be sure and BE COOL! and follow the rules

Erratically rush to pull a Royale in a Flush of the must-have luck, like a seasoned duck filet of being led astray with ashes of a sweet, sweet Grammy of conversation—her sitting still and solitary with her Tee-Vee sweater vest without a single “Vice” oranges and limes, a slice to sweeten up the sugar of an Iced Tea when I would also see Aunt Donna Donohue, and who- she cares for me, so sweet and the pounded chicken meat, to savor of what about the Cajun flavor and in the kitchen with the oven mittens, but bitter bitten by Bizmark—no bitey little pup—the clock looks up to Midnight dark as day, and in every salty single way, horses choosing the greenest hay in the pasture, put old Buttercup to sail away—or maybe a Mad Cow in dreary fields and how, to put down a B&W spotted CALF — a shot of a gun to the head, instead, unable to stand and old as an F-er a Heiffer—so clever sill-side—take the donkey (Kong) for a ride in the fields—the crops will fill their yields, feeding the need—the corn seeds of buttered and salted—but not going to Salter Schools of nursing or makeup or something, what Home Care here at “Averte”—when Sandy cleans, her paying for what she needs when years ago I would tip her on a weekly basis, static faces, when I wanted her to be on my side, proudly horsies gals-opting in Stride—a gum to chew, preferably Bubblicious blueberry sugared cubes, at the supermarket counter, the treats to be treated to a young boy or girl, the Twix caramel bars coming in packs of 2—twin chocolate Cholesterol—the time spent shopping, it goes by quick or seemingly very long, a wifey pressing into her thong, the audio of a song, to “Take My Breath Away” a la the band Berlin, sung within the movie Top Gun aircraft with Tommy Cruise—when I’ve been free of booze—me with no temptation to drink and tinkle—with what a whiff of a sailor’s armpits, while caught in a DRIFT, if you catch my riff, that cans of Pringles and sprinkled Sea Salt—the “Crypto-currency” of the “Alt.” tokens, smoken spoken without an insufflation of what medicine but Hydroxychloroquine!China and the “Chinese Disease” of Coronavirus causing congentation and contagious coughing in the wayside “Airwaves” being satellite driven on my SiriusXM radio, so rad, so raided shops of elevated helicopters, all in a Growing-Lab of the green—not seen—or by me to be free of smoking MMJ “Trees”—lavishly layden with Ironic Made-Then maybe, maybe MAY-HEM to cripes, trim the laces of too-long length of leg width wide that I already mentioned tall men and their grown legs, to “stride” in pride and power, at the 11 o’clock hour, and I up late, that waking in the morn’ and a Diet Red Bull to pull the strings on those skimpy undies- the THINGS!

What-so briefs amounting in the mounted Cherokee Chief—with my Chef, Irene, her at the oven—with sum Chinky food tonight, I be longtime, long-term loving the Oriental flavor prepared by short men and the women, then, in the Kung-Hung Fool imbibing hot tea at the one’s table, with white rice—the tasty Soy Sauce is salty salted (Sailor and Salter) sprinkled on slugs being an act of cruelty—think about it—what does it feel like for a slugger a la Louisville veiled, baking making the chocolate 

chip cookies—a cat to name “Cookies”:

Oh I wish they would get a kitten here at “Averte” where I be, casually dapper tapping at the clapping strength of who but Hulk Hogan—and me pecking at the white sheet and dark words—S-WORDS to the swerv-ed t’were it be absurd obsolved and the puzzle too tricky, playing a full game of Monopoly and monotonously buying Boardwalk to take a break, the truest Trudging, Treadmill Time, I do fine without any wine, when I choose not to whine about THE JERKS HERE GETTING INTO MY APARTMENT (!!!!!)

When you have a torn trinket floored and forlorn—my loins of a lion’s breadth—take a Loaf of “whole grain” goodness with smooches for musky mooses, catch gleeful foot-loose’s Bacon Brat with the on-state baseball batter swinging with a gruff full gulp and a burp, Babe Ruth played the bases with some beer—his grand slam, that favorite famous one, that would be the sum and of his rookie-card, worth a lot of money—view his signed bats with awe and awesomeness to hear and see best-dressed in a mid-riff uncovered—being of a solid lover!