Google: "Jeff Coin" $JEFF

Come in to the creed, the greed, of sea-fishermen, clear the water, and clear the cherry waves, with “urban” streets paved and tarred, and on and on and on—grooving to the radio’s station call them out on any static signal—hear the speakers of the tweeters and sold on Twitter—sizzling and weather drizzling, so rainy that WET, driving below the speed limit, oh this is it, when the snared and the snatched click, albeit on the button that says “LUNCH” lifting off the cannibalistic sentiments of who but Kim and Kimmy K. heterosexual and not a gay getting a balls-gagger like a low-life LIVESTRONG humpty-humpty when a lady-like comes a knocking, albeit him/her with no cock and balls—deviants secluded and there’s no “protruding” pants with a chopped off cut and splice—now you’re a "trains" and ain’t thatta nice?

Needle pin-prick pricey, the nicey-nicey and lingerie naughty (notty) nutty and crumb-butty boody Da “Booty” bloody sinking sincerely the Soldiers of one older, like brothers, the little brother oh brother none other than my Justin Marquis, who he- he he he, him, he needs a girlfriend who won’t mine his uh minding his own business http://alwayschillen.com/beauty.htm of HIM he he he He sings aloud with his feet on the ground, albeit while “head in the clouds” protruding greeting brooding and be it a ring-a-ding-ding dong of getting into the secret-spot of a while-so ho-hum Sum of a Summary—foot notes, stinky toes—anyways, a Cliffs Notes “Guide to the Suzuki GSX” betwixt on the scene junkie in-between of Sum ‘o’ de Sugar Tree, to due, all for you, sugar-sugar suggardly playing aloud with one eye on the crowd, and a pierced tongue, nipples, penis sparkles and tattoo’s Charolette Russe drinking alcohol’s flavor of what but a buy the high price- Grey Goose, that, yes, correct, the goose is loose and around the house, property surrounded and the little buster son of the family, he’s grounded for sneaking a Playboy and a Penthouse and a Hooters the adult-laid then mighty pen—a printing-press—I’ll buy a Mont Blanc again—because I never got my $315 pen, yeah, really, I ordered one and they sent it back, as per my precious parents’ vibe and verve of thinking I’m absurd—that, absure, I like the suction cups stuck on windows, and when the blowing windy out the shades drawn !!!