See this "Shade" on a Memorial Day with little time left, a pitched "cleft" showered for cleanliness orchestrated, MY WRITING POWERS!

Parched pavement and the Missus well-laid when back-door ended-see, oh do it again and again, if that’s possible with your hickory stick, a la that Popsicle—and suckled something kinky—she even used her Pinky!

My wrists jotting poetry/prose of stay away from the asshole-shit conspiracy to make a "FAGGOT" be NOT-ME !!!!!

Some Calmed senses piqued all week long, that, or (...) an Audi sitting parked Parker where the car-fan “clout” be... my Chick-a-dee when we what once thought we’d see, us two making a FAMILY—but forlorn as the masturbatory habit engulfed too more of the much mucho hifalutin “Playboy” of course, I could have sworn you’d be “A Playa” now looking to seminal complacency where the underwear be filled a-floated with a motorboat... OR, we can implore to put one’s hand fully faded—let’s get Jacked N’ Jaded—call me “Most_Hated” but then halted at fault of that man, what’s his name, Walter? when out to eat a treat of chocolate cream-pie, the waiter, he faltered—fallen down after tripping on a ladies wedding gown, with a crown like Princess Diet Cola—ewww, warm soda!

Notably disgusted, and I to the “me” you trusted, with a broken hag on the rag of plain pasta and Parmesean, the cheese, “I’ll have a seconds scoops, if you please!”

Mr. Cooper and Jackie Miller—them both suffice with a lot of “Filler” in conversational waves (Sine) when I sigh at the lightened up and lit up phat, small circle of readers I have here—short bearded and going without (sufficing) suffocate-ing at the evening now late-ing the bedtime of a broad slinked down with what fine wine—I do alright without—so stop the stomping of grapes the ABV % is too high or too low, lab-tested, and the Best Did bestly bested with E.D. for sworn to be done with the drink and the puke in the sunken, stinkin’ ways of Tim Hays to throw summer such parties in his house (his parents on a vacation...) when the keg was pegged but all gone, so soon, too soon, smoking cigarettes outside, us all STARING AT THE MOON!

Stuck in traffic and Honking—it’s Willy (Man ‘o’ Mahoney) Wonka talking to himself about the many midgets—that’s what gets me—why are the Oompa Loompa’s not grown much at all, they’re short, so short and tiny, I be timing a retort for The Little Men, working again... like my shrunken legs and arms—far such longer than “Par” for the course of playing golf with a huge right arm, seen here:

Biologically and physically somehow bizarre and queer, my Mom said, “They’ll shrink you and the time is near!” or the time is Nigh as in that book, “Goodnight Goon!”

Soon sprocket licked a spun done liking the taste of an empty spoon—TOO POOR financially to groceries-shop—cashiers sweeping and weeping “Get the mop.”

Worn withered tube socks with what tons of tones and tunes, arriving momentarily—stupid advertisements, too many—on YouTube.com and always also my www.alwayschillen.com and www.wrxtbi.com—not to mention my http://alwayschillen.blogspot.com and this is getting too long now with what “Goon” references swept under the table, I love how Rich a.k.a. “Lowtax” is DEAD seeing his end, and when he had thousands of Followers, his friends, Mr. Kyanka done and dead—his “awful” something dot-com is no longer “going on”

DING DONG THE "S.A." WEBMASTER IS DEAD! 😢