Jinxed With Accursed Automobile Woes

Small fortune already spent to maintain 2009 Hyundai Sonata (pray cuz I love genii, or even mirthful teletubby heaven sent) compromising financial means to pay rent, telecommunications service provider (Verizon), electric company (PECO), sparking pent up rage against the machine money meant to buffer panic attacks springing up like Jack in the box yet, yours truly feels his soul got lent to the devil, impossible mission peace of mind out of reach for this gent and the misses forced in poor house alms reached out imploring cosmic consciousness me equal decent fellow asking please dole out at least one red cent with quite a few right sided zeros before decimal point to relieve soul searing ailment. Nor can yours truly afford a new preowned vehicle perhaps dismal circumstances will witness me pedaling preschool sized tricycle generating stares aplenty quizzical bystanders, especially kids pointing out overgrown practical joker, many grownups look twice dismissing optical illusion concluding meshugganah mister man maniacal, nonetheless entire crowd coon sitters me hysterical. Thus hoop fully explains zit all regarding why I writ silly poem about me, a pedal pushing panhandler twit (jab only fore sake of poem), who wheely did quit the madcap rat race cold turkey working for nonprofit named Matthew Scott Harris, he sports fifty shades of gray matter boasting memory equalling one kilobit more than adequate as Herman's hermit petsmart exuding blissful esprit de corp sometimes volunteering with Smokey as his fiery bandit. If ja happen to espy older pencil necked geek most popular within of enclave Battle Creek, cuz, constitutes major producer comprising breakfast cereal of champions just toss legal tender into sleek, the only pot I got to piss'n actually a family heirloom antique sold to me on grandfather's deathbed.