My collection recalled was as of "The Insecurity" and seeking Cialis, the foreign nation, complicated transition of "The Insurrection" and a $BONE accrued financial PROFITS inputted spotly shortly sportsy SOON!

Shanghai that won’t dry, turnt off, riddle a scoff-ing look of disgust, that old thrust partner getting some air, so without a care, in the world—all for that but I wish for a girl and scented (what incentive?) to be decent in all respects, coming soon, and coming next...

The utopian utmost so moist like a mossy knoll of grass and spanked on the bottom, The Solemn—I sold them for about ten dollars and a can of Tennis tenants proverbial “balls” tried night and real are in the realm of the headed helm of “Oh God someone save me and the words of thine”—with no wine—just whining about junk in the trunk, these women’s fat cheeky blubber, and what did she just utter?

A sort of a pinch of Snuggle Soft is enough when things get rich between these two doggies 1“bitch” with Rich Kyanka known as “Lowtax” to stay away from me, with all I be, have been a number on a Taxpardon’s tampon list of my many “Ledgers” and my “Will” being just in case something happens to me—benefited Brother Justin, he’s ‘a’ thirsting for a brewski boo’ing the rude, “Doge To The Moon” as Elon has coined from brilliance he holds in that cranium—Kung Fu Kick!

Take a brisket of beefy Brick to kick a derelict like Derek Langlois at most or AT LITTLE, that P.O.S. (point of sale) P.O.W. (princess of wow-ing, zoomed in and zowie) break-ened and broken keyed-in pieces with a money-leecher, that Marco shone his truest colors, not begging for dollars, God Bless him, and his family, a complimentary custodial cleaner, that thing of his, wow that huge weight-er carrying muffin top, showered flip-flops, singing sandy beaches and my short story, “Beauty” (www.alwayschillen.com/beauty.htm) and then the Bounty or of an old western flick, but back to Marco’s prick, OH BOY IT IS THINKER and a baby maker with his kids, wash and rinse when Arisen to chat with me online, he’s just fine, and for the record: I, Jeffrey Marquis, never saw the entirety of Marco’s evidently-manly physical anatomy!

There I go offending readers 101 in the past 28 days, surely mistaken—oh mama, I told Dan to keep my online writing, how to say, umm, “Insulated” that I had over 50 to 70 readers every 24 hours, many years ago in 2005 through 2007, and here it goes when me-knows and methinks a dainty damsel with a damn artistic easel, painted 4 Acrylic Paintings—for the life of me all that paid-for time in Pierre’s Charlton “Studio” of artwork so fine, me happy with mine, of me my own, and with a Crown, awaiting a Golden Chalice on Missy “Alxandra Neas”—needing work that the more she twerks with that little bootie, I sent my Mom a link of “Hootie and the Blowfish” some hours ago, a previous taste of her car-ride music (cassette tapes) purchased Singles—but not mingling with any men, Mother Hen, Mother Debbie, never owned a Chevy- or played roulette to hustle a cashed-in Vegas Casino, I know, as Deborah Marquis is a good egg, ALBEIT with extinguished umm humm the baby-making machinery, I swindle a candle by romance with none-other than J.C.G. about to be a mother, yeah I did a pregnant carrier, with no “Barrier” but old enough to visit bars—drinking while preggers, she did minimal harm to her kin, a baby within, I believe she had 2 glasses of wine, post-insemination, I cussed her once, she shied away, and then we returned to the Orgasmic-Normal of some man-and-woman MADE intermingling—we each would lay...

IN THE EMPTY HALLWAY!

. . . This until a nurse said we could share the same bed, instead—of peeking promiscuousness her top off being undressed, and in a period of time—what a mess!—that TWICE I’ve laden a chick who I manly, if-not for the men-stirred soiled (and oiled vertical soldier) I was so honored and horrified when Justine did it first, that I laughed, such laughter- then thereafter I honestly felt somehow me “Honored” that the girls were a bloody, bloody “Tease” to “TEST ME!”

And in 2013 when I was with Justine Aragona, I reached beyond God and felt her left breast, that my paralyzed left side of my body, that was my chance, to harness WHAT I NOW KNOW AS “GODLY” !!!!! 💖