Ask away my dear! I'll answer to the best of my ability.. we can put our half fried brains together to make one giant brain and come up with a solution to your issue.
I'd love to hear some comments, constructively if you please.
What are you concerned about!?!?!? I can help if you wish it so..
Confusion you say?...Not surprised you stoner you..LOL..
<3 Not to fear, Miss Dro is here..
To help you make your baked goods and other eateries as special as possible with trusted recipes that have been tested by yours truly with step by step pictures for insured proper instruction..For Legal Medical Marijuana Use Only.
Yes, Im very concerned about your indelible soul (INDELIBLE, noun: everlasting, eternal, forever - which means you might go to Hell withat soul cuzza the demons prodding you to make another joint). I DONT WANNA LOSE YOU, dear!!! Join me, follow us, wiseabove...
ReplyDeleteWhat's your address in Heaven, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My sub/dude, neon mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit Almighty God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, stupendous, fire-engine-zeal: skiing, surfin, sailing, snorklin, smmmokin, savvy, sassy space travel -to- scarlet symmetry! elegant ostentation! potent intoxication! technecolor satire to snuggle and serve: slow, soft, supersonic Sunday School which is an eXcellent, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together that's push-button, point-blank improv; a plethora of high-degree, Newtonian-laws-of-major league, victory laps where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawness equals every, single, evening with wild knights, phorNphood, avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats (subject to unofficial rules). Yes, of course! Baby making is most certaintly an option! ...yet, I gotta wanna see how She feels sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to those with adolescent behavior: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! Gotta. Wanna. Or you're sooo out-of-order, toots. Therefore, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with i2i loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's wild Kingdome?? Chop, chop, dear. Time's running-out for us in this wee, existence finite PS: Time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, dollface... yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...
...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: sweltering, cramped and Fugly rotten; Pokemon sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug; o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity, no purchase necessary. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW.
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