i kent believe that i saw clark yesterday

bb king used to sing for kent records, while sonny clark recorded for harold melvin and the blue notes. i slappy a white guy everytime i get mad tv, for my anger often bubba's up up and away and i enter the 5th dimension, which you need to spend some bills on to gain entry. i went to a dinah in washington and ordered an entree of freedom fries last year.
adan is here again for the second day in a row. i am upset by this. adan had a chance to drop out, to finally make a decision and stick to it, but he sold out yet again. so he is back in school, learning how to adan subtract. whether he should stay in school or not has obviously led to some divisions in his family, and while we will perhaps never get to the square root of the problem, adan is in the prime of his life, and even if he were to pursue his education, i find it odd that he would do it at brookline high, as he is always high. i was gonna marry juana, but she wouldn't tell me her last name. that joke was a j lo point of the history of this blog. how will i ever survive and gayner back the gloria i used to have. it's still the same old story the fight for love and gloria, which takes place every donna summer. you have to be hardy to fight this battle, and donna a bullet proof vested interest just to make sure you don't luz money like beato. i march to the beato of my own drummer, and while you mae arnett find this comment off bass, i will continue to trumpet my ideas. idea i d e a idea. god, that was an annoying advertisement. silberg thought it was getting played too much, and wrote to the station's producer, directing him to stop playing it. the producer made a movie to stop airing it, and eventually sent silberg an oscar peterson record. silberg got high off the solo of herb ellis on how high the warren moon, which he heard in kenyatta while growing a mustache and reading the writings of charles beard.
but what does it all matter, for aren't we hair today and gone tom tomorrow? picture this...you are drawn into a difficult situation. there is no courtney love in all the world, hate has taken over, and over and over i keep going over the world we knew, when love was new and each kiss 108 a sweet inspiration from lee morgan's recording of candy. i may ring your big maybelle and play it for you pinko if you haven't heard it, and bill cosby you for it later. i was gonna name my daughter shaniqua, but i don't have a jason kidd, a scary thought, according to freddie, who started freeloading off me kind of out of the blue one day last year. but, so what? what does it all mean meridian and mode, and while sonny may have redd that remark, i am still mr. blue, and grant green with envy. i want johnny moore than to be a drifter. i don't mean to be rudy lewis, but why i can't i live like a ben e. king in spanish harlem? if i only had someone who would stand by me, and sam cooke for me, and be witty and pretty and marvin gaye no matter what was going on. ohh, mercy mercy me, i don't feel good. perhaps i should read the king james bible with the teachings of jesus the carpenter in brown. please please please, help me. do something for me, like buy me a brand new bag, or a nip of brandy in a liquor store in norwood, which would build my confidence and turn me into a sex machine. or, i could attend mass, and pastor the time listening to the high priest of bop and watch monk on tv and play with my dalai. but no, i'd dan rather take it on the lama because you pigs are always busting by chops. well, stick a pork in it because im done with it all