Talk to Me

Sasha and me back in '63. Oops, we are an experiment in progeny. It did not work properly because he was made a brother to me. Times change and people are strange, and there is definitely code in this, Putin, unbeknowenst to me. Be a special educator daddy Vladimere, and we will win vampiric tickets for the fair. Maybe I should go to the Twins game with him on the eighth day of creation. I got no rest on the seventh. Percolating for a year makes it clear when it all comes out of my piehole, actually. The ring is british royal gold and I am only one for your two souls. Can I handle it? Just ask Peyton and Eli. I just want to talk about my experiences without having to dumb it down for the witches, bitches, and whores. It is not jealousy, it is heinous EVIL to me. Me to me, like to like, I was always a royal buddha type. I have the answers in my blood and my master is licking his lips as we speak. Maybe something positive happens this week. I am doing what I can to get out, but I am not going to sit here and shout. I know who I am and the infinity of my degrees and positions I CURRENTLY hold, actually. Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks. It is time to PLAY BALL. Enough said.