Be More — Borrowed Bottled 1% Milk at The Soup Kitchen

That would be a bench and a smitten kitten of playtime antics, that mouse, click it on a strong string of complexities with big boobs on my old 'n' absent phpBB “The Poetic Voice”

I’m alive and when I thrive, well I call that last itty-bitty Bit(coin) to when what’s “IT” ???  I know and I’ve survived (www.wrxtbi.com) of days and nights coming willfully quick, wouldn’t you know, and happily?  The frenzy of residents, and here, at “Averte” with massive monetary amounts—that’s what counts!—the rolling bills in the rolling hills of when to ROFL and when, then, to maybe sit still—picked up off the floor—pleasantries, bring them on, whilst mowing the grass—later a dainty Daisy finds its hooves dug deep, within to seep up the withered what-not of Kuwaiti’s water, slushed in a ritzy way of a manner—clattered and panting Pro-V shampoo—doodle who?—I want you, my readers, to know this right here: I watch you and I watch your hits, Gillette arm-pits, their deodorant and decantered Absence of the forward Fix, remember Uncle Mick! now deceased and Arisen like the sun one day, with my knowing, my Aunt Donna Donohue has a legitimate SAY in where I STAY when what I have in my DAY!