A smidgen of swift, shift-y fragrance upon a neckline corresponding gold chain (Mickey Donohue I miss you!) flossing the flaunted gold among my shoulders with armpits beneathe breathing in the buttery Gillette gel of Bright & Sunny, let’s relax at the beach hunny—and with buns back-side, walking them Glutes—pretty prude of me not to flash a Booty—with some flavored “class”—showing “sass” but classy hello B. of “Sassoh” delight, to kiss you every night and mourning the inappropriate messaging, it was nothing, it was not anything at all, with me having been stood-up with then and, then there’s my gain in Height of 3.5” TaLLer, being easy for me a GHRP-6, Hexarelln, CJC-1295, IGF-1 LR3, with the almighty MGF being “Mechano Growth Factor”—fact is, it’s all complying and sold online-ing, then sent to me, in the mailbox of me, of mine, coming regularly come 2006 and 2007—me as TaLL and delightful as 100% Heaven then 0% Hell, gud to spellar admonished drunks falling down in the Whine-Cellar, so “caller” [ The Messenger ] I ask shield me with bullet-proof glass, at last when the jerks are so mean to me, as I wailing, they treated me awfully, banging brass, punching me in the face and kicking my ass!
Shopping wacky in a small Mall like striped stores lined up next to the lot of cars, yeah the ‘lot’ of them, Citizen watch, Citizen pen, of who yeah ME that my America is where I’ll be standing proud, having never crunched a girl who’d wear a silky shone “Shroud”—a mouse shrewd chewing a tennis shoe—got balls?—pick up a baseball pitcher’s glove at a sporting-shoppe like “Spags” when maybe back in the day, I’d see Grammy and Aunt Donna Donohue—that—well—Mickey—God, I miss him, and his charming wife moreso, that Aunt Donna knows, and this:
IF MY UNCLE MICKEY DONOHUE WAS ALIVE, I WOULD HAVE CONTINUED MY 2.5 MONTH ABSTINENCE OF ALCOHOL AND NOT CRASHED MY SUBARU WRX!
And so from the ephemeral coming of the utmost higher PROCLIVITY to stay neat and tied up in cinches—New Years Eve and the “turn the clicking clocks with their Social and Media “tocks” now speaking loudly, ladies lift your Shone “Shrouds” in the UAE—hi Bruce, and, hi Bitcoin 2024—there’s something so serviced and certainly applauded so LOUD BE THE CROWNED KING when what disturbances of a lame Jester I’m “Jeffers” seeing what deters derelicts and defamed doofuses drowning thine tough-times with a Distilled Drink of O’Douls for the KIA Soul car with hemp, hamsters, and gerbils—paying the bills—to give the cute & cuddly me some Delighted joys of created creatures, coming of one what a Mother?
Oh absolutely, to the choo-choo train in the rain, and the toot-toot-toot of a nigga jacking a register for “Da Loot”, being the Looters winning the Lottery (figuratively...) when the crowd suddenly and unjustly THEY “RIOT”—shattered windows and cars turned upside with the Downs being these poor’s of shaded skin—breaking glass to get within the stores, thievery implored by the go and get-so HUGE CROWDS OF UNREST—pushing out one’s chest when what ringing in one’s ears to pick up ‘da’ phone when it’s ringing, on the avenue (cell-phone, Celly’s) or at home when hearing that special jingle—the ringle, right-so ringing commotion of telephone-line complication—but that’s enough about my complexion, commotion, Divine Conception...
Driving on a radar’s detection, when oh noes, here it goes, pulling to the side of the street, with a Police Officer to MEET him or her and hopefully not receiving a speeding ticket—but who knows?
My text for your deep habits of what, reading me- when these God-given:
Nine Inch Nails - God Given
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjFGXnKG3Rs
worked words of Verse to be in the rear-most node of a hearing aloud the engine blaring in a... absurdity behemoth drumming on the offense to show no discretion, In the name of God, the Giver of Mercy, The Lover of Mercy, stifled and letting out a murmur of at-home presence, and Santa leaving the leavened presents—under de’ Tree for all to see and enjoy and relish in the love of one another, coming crowned owed a sound at the pound with a howl of the jowls and DJ Jazzy Jeff—showing a lip “cleft” absolutely NADA when one time 3 months in a row, I donated to an animal charity, you know, ASPCA and my “Animal Champion” t-shirt, looks fine on a protruded girl's chest—wearing a MINI-SKIRT when the males-eyes envelope the possibility of Eloping and galloping horseshoes on a Scratch Ticket, tumble and thickets, leading the way come the monthly period posterity of the hey-day in May what 18th or 21st ???
Or how about Cinco de Mayo—THAT SILLY HOLIDAY, in May with the mayonnaise for a BLT cooked too hot, and keep in mind, my writing for the past few years has been sane and invoked and with no beers! SOBER 2016 that’s what I’m talking about—and that’s what I mean to say, no whiskey rye or sardine pizza-pie, saving room for the Groom to taste the bodily secrets of a female—have you ever earned the privilege of tonguing a snail prepared by an esteemed chef?
Alls I knows is me is Jeff, me is so bereft (lacking or without) of cancerous cells, that stinks and that smells! A naughty coconut flavoring of a Concoction = more like a Hemeral Contusion—get my Fusion? of a father producing millions of tons of plastics, yay, the hey-day of Great Wayne and his ECM business dealing the polycarbonate or what that is Poly-Propylene but to me, the over-time Created cash, I was created in my Mom’s “gash” and smoke leaves ash of the fuel—Mexican Drug “Mules” sticking and swallowing Bilbo Baggin’s Baggies of chemicals to retort and ensnare, that shiny white crystalline glare, but drugs, I don’t care about the drugs that kill—NEVAR FORGET DAVE!
I don’t care, I forget—what about the slaves? Yes, the slaves when I’m super proud to have done well under the learned leader of my AMERICA #1
The United States of America and me so darn PROUD to be from the USA!
Regards,
Jeffrey Marquis =)
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