Hymen Destroyer (bigger is better they say)

They are back for that candidacy
    of myself in cognitive bagpipes.
    Can’t believe it?
Let me show you...

Hey
do you awnt a {}prosperous future?
do you feel insecure about your penis size?
Both
penis loader
  and
penis power?

Don’t get left behind with good erection.
Just listen to you heart

Surprise!
This is unbelievable!
That is unbelievable!
No
This is incredible!

Feeling cold outside?
Why don’t you buy some medications to be healthy?
Don’t forget to ask for discount.
Good credit or not.

Want to shave a few pounds? Try to prop their commander up into a semblance of decentmule, let alone Rome's mules, the men of the Legions. It was a gift without worm activity detected.

Tell em the answer
The phone is the answer
   ... from me with love
       - Peer Syed Sahib

Peer Syed Sahib (1668 – 1741) and his family belonged to the Holy City of Ajmer Sharif (famous for the tomb of Hazrat Mu'inuddin Chishti) in India. Peer Sahib was kidnapped at an early age (scholars disagree on the exact age) by pirates of the Mongol Yuan fleet. The young Sahib quickly gained acceptance among his captors with his good listening skills and a soft, even-keeled voice. He would set up counseling sessions (trademarked as “peer-to-Peer” sessions) dealing with pirate depression (especially after the betrayal by their Sri Vijayan allies in the war with Majapahit), pirate money problems, pirate anger management, and pirate marriage counseling. Although Mr. Sahib was a Shia, he did not proselytize his faith to those he counseled. He became well known at many ports along the Indochina coast for his counseling sessions but he was not without competition. His rival, Pandit Maharaj, started out as an apprentice with Peer Syed Sahib, but broke from the franchise in an attempt to start his own ever-loving and pulsating cloud of happiness. Pandit did not get very far he was mobbed by a group of well trained pugilists who were devout catalysts of Peer Sahib. Our spoem today is part two of a medication meditation that Mr. Sahib developed for men to recite when experiencing erectile dysfunction.

Immortal anti-spammers are lamers

Immortal anti-spammers are lamers
The reason behind it... u will find out soon.
Will you be ready?

I would dream of the pillars
      of Aquebogue               (or debrief no catsup)
      of between Edgeley     (or discordant to prop)
      of Auberry be Alta       (or Fenwick be Maskell)
      of the Hebrews from otherwise
                        inconsistent under-criteria.

Clean faith, my paz.
My reason behind it?
I would dream of a Mahayana earthworm morning erection neglecting juniper pleasantries.

Thick cunning receptors damage how vaccination dysfunction ventilated supermarket, transmitting sadness drugstore selling revolutionary lesbian pheromone. Western suicidal ideation announced “mi hija es ‘El Anticristo’, tiene que morir!”

Stay strong. People die - which was a bit surprising given we're used to everyone miraculously surviving, but still we have a love interest, some sort fighting, some despair, some history.

I dream of you. Be immune, glad, and whelk she devilish.
Show me now!
Sorry, man. I’ve got to go.
       - Alain Manoukian

Well educated and rarely worked out of need, Alain Manoukian (April 17, 1891 – March 16, 1952) kept his homosexual orientation concealed well into his early adulthood by veiling his desires via innuendos within poetry. Early in his writing career, Manoukian would mockingly copy the poetic works of Hermann Schwarz by distorting and lampooning the analytical approaches Schwarz took to the circumstances of love and life. Manoukian’s parents owned a bookshop in Lisbon, which exposed Alain to the literary greats of his time. They also owned a small printing press, affording Alain the luxury of printing limited collections of his poetic work. The shop eventually employed a poor working-class boy named António Botto, which Manoukian befriended. The two soon discovered their latent homosexual desires and began using poetry as a form of expression. Their escapades went unnoticed until an auto-da-fé of one of Botto's book was declared by the Catholic Church and the two lovers, along with their “cover”, Carminda Silva Rodrigues, fled the country to live in Brazil. During their journey, they crossed paths with Sir Matthew Nathan, who had just retired as the Governor of Queensland and was returning to Somerset, England. The three men shared a love for boiling hippos in their tanks. Governor Nathan’s long stories of governing inspired Manoukian to govern several essays and satirical poems portraying politicians as gay sailors governing in bohemian quarters. Manoukian later composed a folkloric homage about his older brother, who was shot by Falange militia on August 19, 1936. Manoukian committed suicide in 1952 due to severe depression and delusions caused by syphilis. Upon hearing the news, Botto ironized, "Now I'm the only official homosexual from Portugal...".

Seismic Gossip Bitching Angles

Desired future
    failed
following error through
    life to learn
  martyrdom.

Read me!
Receive a younger
    future angel
shooting magical biracial
double A rated sangaree
   with palindromic
insomnia.

Theretofore, less epochal mutiny of Glastonbury
go hangman in rectilinear
    venereal disease crap,
speeding
  heavyweight parish
and
additional
    rainfall hostage statement.

South American quagmire
incriminates
    undeliverable righteous labyrinth
for hot water container.

Dismal, endless pain?
Dim, and die tonight?

This is not an experience that requires religious belief.
  Moments, pulled up together,
    assumed
this might be what you want.
       - Laurene Pearce

The youngest daughter of a Huguenot couple who were among the first to be murdered in the streets of Paris during St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre, Mlle. Laurene Pearce (?1562 – October 5, 1606) was dipped naked into her parents' blood, in a perverse rite of baptism, and warned not to become Protestant or suffer the same fate. From this somewhat interesting event, Mademoiselle Pearce’s writing style developed. Above all, she was an imitator that took to refuge in spamming notable Italian poets of her day along with the epic commedia of the Black Guelphs. In 1579, Father Edmund Campion became Pearce’s benefactor. Under his coin, she created several treatises, sermons, and sexy liturgical undergarments. Unfortunately, Father Campion had a bit of an accident involving an executioner and a scaffold resulting in Campion being hung, disemboweled and (while still alive) witnessing his steaming entrails flung by the executioner into a pot. As a practical joke, Mademoiselle Pearce arranged to have the body of Father Campion beheaded and quartered with pieces shown (for a limited time only) at the four gates of Tyburn. A few minutes afterwards, Mademoiselle Pearce befriended Philippe Desportes and together they spammed even more poets and writers, which resulted in the couple being sentenced to death in 1606. Asked if they had any final words (of their own for a change), Mademoiselle Pearce replied "Copier la réalité peut être une bonne chose, mais il est meilleur d'inventer la réalité." To which, Desportes responded, "Qui premier s'en repentira?"