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Old 11-17-2019, 08:21 PM
Join Date: Nov 2011

Originally Posted by SOLZHENITSOF View Post
Originally Posted by Stephen Maturin View Post


Then let's give way to the questions neither based on The PUBLIC COITUS plans planned by The Worlds' Intellectuals, and the explanations neither braved of THE PUBLIC COITUS REVOLUTION briefly everything either regarding to THE MATING FREE TO BE PEEPED or The STUDENT GIRL 18+- defined in the words matching to the grammar induced qualification-YES THE MAING STUDENT GIRL and THE TWOS IN ONE who engaged in coitus free to be peeped through the semi official peephole on the door of the semi-official bedroom. Actually one should let one tell one's master master, let souvenir-based questions come: “Which one is your mother, brat, the village houses that look at us without the porch of the lady in the step-dress?” ... “No, sir; my mother is the guide of the map engineer, she doesn't wear dresses, she has long sleeves on top of the wide fabric pants, the tops of the tracksuits coming up to the knees, she releases the headscarf! ”So the answer is that we are talking about the mothers of morally sound children and even family. information about the elders is always available. Then again, the researcher bird of the ancestral lifestyle vehement induced research, ABUS MALE BIRD SH..E… K. of the sketch recorded in the mind, and daily Notes-3 OCTOBER 2009 TURKEY SOVIET EMPIRE OF FEAR! The length of several VERST-Russian distance units-, longer than the length-Question: Isn't it the longer one? ”Answer: Don't mingle; Don't confuse it!” - and a highland blossomed by the autumn rains-stagnant- Stay the spring animals, HEHHEH! Who laughed? Everybody put their hands on the bench and look at the board. At the expense of re-writing grammar, we will speak Turkish and we will find that giggling desperate all together. All together I was degenerated - our CAK pot tired of CA SINA
Are you a Turkey Soviet agent, ominous or flat-bottomed? Does the soil you step on dry? The surrealist, surrealist narrative, whose mother err.. whose mother is the truth itself to have been sitting on his lap and lowering his pudding into the stomach, forces the subjects without the smell of kitchen. (Don Quixote's fear and complaints, meanwhile, how right he was and how cruel our world is. I said custard but what if it was sweet milk or milk sweet, huh?) The surrealist brain is a happy and unbridled mischief. If it was not the immaculate mother of the happy and innocent brain who opened her protective lap, but the adversary of the press mafia, the enemy of faith, renowned for her porn papers, surrealistic artefacts leave the kitchen smells, other essences other than the foot-path of defecated food and sprayed perfume cocktail? He is now writing a breakdown of the species that the perfume-faeces duo contributes to the native novel: the village novel, the Bloody Series, the Local Detective, the Political-Conspiracy Valley, the Love Based Coitus or Coitus Lacking Love stories and so on. Oops! There are remarkable developments… Our author is presently aware that all his acquaintances, who were once known to add to these genres, did nothing but lick toilet paper, and that the number of books published in similar countries to ours and those who read these books, sometimes to the point of scrambling to the point of the snail or sperm. Starting from this line of story, thinking that it can come out equal, has escaped us! See-see, let alone the road in a hurry, even on the side of the curb walks as if rubbing. He presented an almost identical image to the eyes of the willows of the willows without aging, and left their leaves to yellow on the one hand.
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