Who else remembers the hundreds of license plates around me, when I would contemplate Divine "complexity" learned through random.org and randomwordgenerator.com

Whisper to the mello’s with some serious Melons, poked and groped filling one’s having handed the way of a bodily stage of succinct pinch, how swell then and appearing on the side of a Milk Carton (of cigarettes? I don’t smoke cigarettes):

In this crummy mess with more then the most plentiful pastries maybee’s in the pants you see, on me—along with USDT “traders” of FOREX liquid money sitting in the heated and melted, but mis-aligned Pot of Gold you fools need to be of collegiate education, sifting in schools that went out the window with “The China Virus” sipping on the same simple drink, come to think, it was an inch, being the needle—XMAS decoration of a tree’s tinsel and then “TIMBER” rough and rugged man-hands with a Saw—Swam in a dream, hurd of bee’s on tilted axis—I be where the cash is in Currencies, Stocks, precious metals flower’s peddles on the splinter of declaring me a possible winner, of the art display, that hey—which way will the unanimous descision intra-tangle what will soon be mangled with angels offering something to service with larger hips and I would always leave a $20 to $40 tip with my meal for one, that The Fish Restaurant of delicious SEE? FOOD? See it wholesomely for a quick peeping grin of a “Pinball Wizard” scratch ticked WIN $250—a college dreamer lover of her Mother listening to my kind words—a glass of water... The H2O don’t you realize you blinded by the 0-calorie blinding bright light of aquatic refreshment—with ice cubes of the Arctic, and XMAS presents hidden in the Attic—you’re erratic with the misnumbered number of dental syringes squeezing Novocaine into one’s gums, oh that’s fun, and do it some more, with DROOL!

Me being Autistic and Oh So “Tasty’s Treats” a taste of the retardation—you couldn’t bear the smell—of a Bull Market with my being Bullish for real, for real, of the spectrum spinning—wheels on a Chevy Silverado, flexing the 22” rims of weight, wait for it wait for it, okay, it’s Kate and she’s late for a Midnight clue, Aunt Donna Donohue—I love you, I trust you, and you are the only protection I have from when I AM BEING HACKED ON MY DEVICES!

I hate my enemies: A.A.A.S.D.M.J.C.

They almost, so nearly they caused my Great “Disability” of what though? Well maybe one’s brain is a vital cognition of a key in the ignition—they all have keys and combinations (safe for sale: 108959#) of my three doors, with the dorks down to make me frown, eating a creamy Fluff and stuff—gonads and a stick of Butter, peanuts and bread, bring out the Pita (bread) well-spent Sarah in her boyfriend’s Camaro, when wouldn’t you sync the beat and flow, floor-mats in that bright red Camaro—singing the high notes with a special low-tone drone of them good ol’ LOW NOTES—ignore my posts, and put up a 3M yellow “Sticky” on the side of the sets pushupping tall with HushPuppies squeeze them swimming TOES when it’s like lucky-noodle white-haired Poodle, knee-high booties, them shoesies—being BOOTS—the kitty-cat owned by Aunt Ida Bee, who, well sadly she’s not with us anymore at a heavy weight with God-knows how big, her “Over The Shoulder Boulder Holders” she was so heavy and cheery in the Nursing Home—Mom and Aunt Donna helped huge-ly her take baths and showers, my Mom shuddered, saying to me, “That was an experience... guhhhhh!”

Stellar moods in blue so what’s this crumb-bum former friend, that he has been and aught to be—like me with a Lucky life-changing strange thing, to wisp upon an egg and whisker washed with Albumin sauce (saugases) eloping with the hoping of a white lady and no AZN’s... but I found this, I cringe at the country introduce to CoVid-19, which I emailed the Chinese government and Facebook laboratories "NAME IT WITH 18+ FOR A NUMBER, I swear to God—like suggesting Corona because they would come in glass bottles only, I remember, and Phil V. would drink them and then late-night at parties one would fall on the floor and shatter, a mess:

Heh, I live in "A Psychiatric Residence" and I've reached beyond God's real "Illusion" at the edge of space in 2013, some COUPLE hours beyond "the Big Bang" that was so intense I loved every moment of it, so I've figured out that "The Creator" of His universe gets boring after a few hours and I'm supposed to MARRY who else = NO ASIANS = but another Traumatic Brain Injury "Survivor" my Justine Aragona -- props go out to pelly57, thegingus, and Jim Martineau my new friend who's my ticket to meeting Vivek for a Presidential position—after talking to him some nights in 2005 and/or 2006!

Mrs. Bouvier liked Michael at Saint John's High School who found what I found to come as "A SUPREME BLESSING FROM GOD" !!!!!