One o'clock, m'on, bandit, lock on. In my reticle upgrade to Popsicle. Street walked guy-blocked, couplin' perfect match, my radar out of hatch, target heading, gun da-ready. One six seven almost heaven, sixty-two weight perfect to date. Vanilla-cocoa hair completely fair. Armed with 2x2 cups, feels my mental slaps, quickly set up ignore shield, guided by geomagnetic field. Step aside – giveaway, ready for more, hey. Imperfect Object = just right, ideal scouting site. No future to cast: Share my Past to last...
Note:
Chad-assisted, ego-tweaked for lifelong performance.