For I, Honorable Asshole Mackensey; Queer of Queers: am the Gayest Faggot, Poon of Pawns, where every other being in this World who could possibly exist out-weighs my Opinion towards any single Creature who has ever crawled on Earth before.

^^^ Just making sure that everyone understands the rules, regulations and realities.

I gist wanna let everybody neue thch I wis clean for about 12 hours, bro' zilch. In case jowel felt proud of me or whatever...

I cint help but sit here and think to my lovely- ass benevolented asself: since woman human beings love to fuck'; especially fuckin' tha dudes they wanna hump, why O why O dear lord wint they rather cornhole boring ole' me?

Remembs the part about me being thabsolute greatest creature to ever create music within life itself, babes_

Well, it turns out thch I thot I neue suhm about making beats, yo' ung. Where until recently and all of a sudden I revelation- the fuck assed ized = I sure dint.

Fuck if I wis a chick I'd wanna nail my crizotch wisney, man.

Not gist 'hitting-skins' part, bro' sis. But "hanging-out" witha coolest dude who'as ever lived part.

*** O Yowel Remembs the Good Ole' Days ***
Where nobody' Earth cid even come close to 'touching' me beats, brathers?

Well those days're long-gone, yo' momma.

I'm gist preparing the mmnth and fuck' sakesing, bro'.

In case yizowel're a wundrin' what tha fuck I am up-to before "really" getting back in-to those nasts.

Noun

*** O I Don't Mind ***
If you keep thch lipstick on, babe.

Every creature ever swindled wintstah cornhole wisney, so what makes you thch god-damned special in order to snuggle within (not only withe most beautiful cats ever stanked) but me filthy sheets at nighttime_

I have to glide myself to put down those headphones before I either. 1. Don't. Or 2. Ruin'em.

I'm building tha neighbors a fancy mailbox as well, babe.

(besides = they want it even "greater" than mine)

So where disney leaf me at the House of Chores?

It mite be tha last song I'fur make in life itself, babe. So I gis, I gist gis it perhaps shall take me the rest of mine to writer.

I'f got far too-many responsibilitain'ts to even pretend thch I'm ever gonna akchewally play live again nor go on tour.

I'd rather, mulch mulch rather write one song unilaterally cappella hours long and call itter an album. Instead making a bunch of crappy ones...

One thing I did notice tho is how lovely the bulge of your vagina wis from thch brief southeast 45°y-angle backlit shot of you wearing skimps from behind.

When every createdure ever created fancies yor presents, it gits a lil' weird for everybody eleth, babe.

At this exact moment in time; for I, Me. Get to mlisten to it and jizowel dizon't.

*** O Cutest Thing I'fur Swooned ***
Thch half- stunted and mongoloided inbred crippled gimp when she asked me, "feeding the birds're yah, Mr. Jensen?". And me, "well it'ch harder for them to scour the earth for seeds'n shit at this time of year"...

And wither misshapen arms crossed, mixed gleyesight whilst bullishly replying by pulling a mini-me esqued- shit eating grin witha dumbfounded retarded look on'er disgusting face; nodding'er head bup dorothy and mumbling, "mhmm, mhmm".

So I walked out pushing with my neue Milwaukee 10IN1 TORX® Key Driver and a cart full'o chips

🍟

Jowel can fuck right off and go to hell, do not pass go, directly go to hell and be eaten alive by the worst creatures yowel cid ever fathom, imagine or comprehend within life itself.

I'm glad. Glad thch instead of celebrating the utmost important discovery which cid ever be discovered, I put the Human Race to rest.

Out of their miseries, look' at yor companion.

Easiest way to do it; remove Human Beings from Ole' Mother Earth herself.

Get rid of the virus and Ole' Mother Earth'll prevail.

Argue, babes. Argue until you are vanquished.

You no longer are needed or exist, argumentative' virus.

I too, love me more than anything in life as well, babes.

When Ole' Momma Eagle ruffles'er disgruntled feathers tah cornhole, iowel neue suhm ain't right, bro' nun.

*** O I Gist Winted ***
Tha keyboard to be clean, so I solvent'd it, 150 PSI'der, methyl hydrate'd it, 150 PSI'der and then thoroughly melted everything inside gist to see what wid happen and neue I neue.

*** O Gist Imagine, Babes ***
...

I don't really "mean" to make everybody' beats sound welfare or whatever.

It'ch gist the - if thars a miniscule fraction of unwanted pretentious cheese in thequation, I'll repeat from the beginning over and over part until there ain't any.