Taking of the best—time to lay, time to mildly rest

Testing and big cheesing all weekend to be Treated of what simple symmetries lie in the Pacific “Tides”—so Tried and True, what of lying being “below you”—but being an organ-donor at the caused case of near-death cacophony—sugar sweet in the pantry—and withholding grams of gold (I do in my wallet!) honey bunches of oats and with a serial topping of sautéed or fried, what about? Believe it or not a route to intoxicate an *ahem*  gee what-about whereas what comes next is a taste of Trout

FreeBSD in Silicon Valley—1920’s ages taken the Trolley to “MOTHER HOLD ME!” and Hold On for Dear Life (HODL crypto-currencies like me!)

Being and been done folding “The Wash”—given and taken morning baking breading the toasted butter in loaves before beseeching the blue bench—what when a wrench in a kink, deez nuts and butter for lobster—cracked claws—did you know they have prepared lobsters at the Hannafords seafood counter, money must be, money mustered, me paying for the popular choices found on the Rite-Aid shelves, right?

With cantered lingo, now we be to must have been, and when, lying to them, the Board and the Bosses—discerning the un-truths of what satellite communication, DirectTV “dish” on the roof, so come closer the Ruphynol is about to kick in, within one’s watching the boob-tube of them online Xvideo making me think of two bodies intertwining, such back and forth intuition, the sexual revolution, needing no discretion, Times Square bathroom bulging broads blown away—some “John” with a 50 dollar bill, that’s your get-go thrill of a must-be the way, with a repetitious trust, her bust, some trust, yeah—the truth—lights off it’s all a ruse—footloose leaking toes, a strident fetish padoned pretense of cranial muscles, but obeying the USD payment—signaled cemented, been boar’s head BURIED, pumpkin grinds fermented- a taxi-cab dented as per thee passing Taxpayer pedestrian, pedestal well arrayed seeking the sway of her been away—no Lady to do so—no layed passersby bringing the bunions to the table—sieekly weighing and portrayed SPF-15 Tanning Saloon—exploring The Dark Side of The Moon!

And a simple wooden spoon

Eating Oatmeal—oh some “meal” Farmer’s mailing Sativa seeds, salivating CBD—some of that “Hemp Oil” and Olive’s secreting some gooey goodness—EVOO at the store—I have tried for lowered carbohydrated intake—American Indian’s “Land O Lakes”—once again adoring (but frustrated???) with that butter—like the butt of her’s—roundabouted and soothed, milky lactations are for women, not the dudes!