By St. Elmo's Fire, Would you vapid vespine hoors allow an awareness ember whoosh to pyrolysis, please? Perchance, a cool eyed Mason/Halliburton Suit drops a backhand, it's crystal he ain't leaving the Mrs., and the fuck nugget gestating will be excised. I feel ya...hardwired maternal subroutines Itch...but zygotes aren't worth exiting x,y,z without His shard. Old White Mens' errands, can also leave a little wiggle for me in you...
Dog owner? I killed it. we shared a hunters moment then ground beef/too much ketamine. Your cell's virus is kicking in. Aerosol fentanyl leads to some hard zzzzzzzzzzzzz's. Front doors only stop vampires.
I will hover...to fondle...Dart Awake...'nother backhand (sensing a pattern?)...taser if feisty... "Therethere pussy, want me to lie about hope?" the silenced S&W M&P is a crowd pleaser. Yeeaahh, Dawning realization of whom unleashed this stooping falcon. Something about desperate babes bargaining inspires the physiological responses...Perk Time
Ancient Cracker Ass Mother Fucker needs somebody else's DNA on you, Crime Scene. life fear predictably inspires torrid enthusiasm, I learn all your tricks...until one shot violates endocranium. have the old Bowie knife wedged around a few times for the fuck nugget. could just disappear you, but nothing sticks on the news like a missing white girl. so the CSI techs and Pig profilers get lucky/published working a Crime Scene spectacular.
sheeiitt, boredom encroaching...
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