About that... well, I'm at it with the 'Bout it, 'Bout it Bacon King (beckoning) to the fan-base I have garnered! HI DANA!

Captain and us with Quivers: The Robin being ON-AIR when shaving with razors and “Nair” product sold at the store—and butter shopping at Lowe’s—with what whitey Whitney millions and millions, plus millions, with of what be the “crux”—what we have at the left handed populations, costed, it costed “Cuz” the financial flout of moving about in his Audi S5—oh you do? and did? being a “Dad” and Jess your wife, what a living contemplation to see, with what sipped wine with the wife, Dan’s life—valuable and like a triple-shot Starbucks—them valuably variables with such scholarly imbedded to be—and ready to leave it all behind, here at “Averte” I fear and sincerely yours truly, what about to be- what fuss and me able, assorted items on my table- that, yeah me willing and able—to put it in—right where it belongs and feels the hugs and touchy brush, with toothpaste and washing one’s favorite smiley face when using “Astringent Cleanser”—clean steps matching—vital surgeon of Ph. D. philosophy and sounding silly, that oh that silicone on and in the chest—what we have (L-and-R “pecs”) of poultry meat to eat, coming full-circuit or just a BIT — a bite that Oh Lordy trying my heard hardest to “take a hit” of this CBD, and enamored with the clammer-clammer pitter and patter at “The Party” with a full-leavened KEG means nothing to me, just a beverage I choose to avoid, the troops have been deployed, it sounding absurd, for sure, and sour-  at what hour partaking past Midnight—oh the straight lined sight of a brazen “broad”—slinking like a SOD—content with contents of a CBD gummies JAR when jarred punched in the jaw, an on-looker saw, had seen, this assault ’n’ battery worthy of a “FINISH HIM!” kind of applause... I hear your silent approval, the silent clapping using only one hand—JMRQ Heavy Industries:  that’s my “brand” of hourglass sifted silky sand, this U.S.A. my and “The Homeland” my hair, pick a strand, for fully at random, skull atop, Gucci flip-flops, sopping up hallway sludge, like spilled soda- that sugary mess, and sticky—pat a little kitty—one cat but not me, as I remain resolute in my male and muscular invested cash and car, a Subaru that’s 3.5 hours away in now August—to drive? I must??? No way I’m happy with Steve Baum piloting the vehicles they have hear, 3.5 hours away, that’s not near... also my John Deere stocks—don’t forget The Loft (of Sean’s) or Laurie a friendly attraction with the satisfaction of orgasms in limo’s, her and the Queen, my JUSTINE! what a match made, us two TBI “Survivors” enlivening the fact we’re lucky to be living, and her loveliness, not to be forsaken—my dot-com viewers, I thank-en Y’alls!

Hi Brother Justin!

The lot of you’s, with cash on “a Cruise”—bye some critical peers I receive (re-lived) accrued—but not getting Boo’s or accosted—I’ve taken

my bill signed with a Mont Blanc pen, that, when I would leave the restaurant of Seafood, me all full of stomached shrimp, I like them with Cocktail Sauce and chewed—me never “cleaning up my too-my text of recent months” but look at this Loogie with Luigi, my brother Justin’s friend...