Steal This Title
Let's Go To Iraq
I love what the boys are doing for the name of freedom.
Why does anyone need to formulate an argument against declaring war? No seriously, i'd love to know. Because i do classify myself as overly un-confrontational. I can't tell my flatmate to clean his spilt beer out of the fridge.
Also you had better check out if you are
"THAT GUY"
there are no rules in this shit.
time is an illusion.
lunch time doubly so.
i will post whenever the fuck i want.
what i want.
http://www.efa.org.au/Publish/efasubm_bsa2002.html#es
what craziness. humorous activity - great 2.4 million is spent on access to kiddy porn for government officials. headline. what the wife doesn't know. how about the child behind the man. perhaps. but this surely means, that someone, and people. possibly high officials, perhaps even the prime minister himself, has been accessing content for research purposes hosted outside of Australia, and therefore outside of jurisdiction, however we could pose a war on the United Stats of America to clean up their act. but then we might just be harking on the muslim back. the infidels will perish underneath all the kiddy porn. the west is the best, fill will filth to the froth. good better bolshevism.
have em all wrapped up please. she was a lovely girl in fish net stockings. all the look but none of the smell. the whole gypsy thing downpat, beautiful hat and dance. pleasant disposition, would never hesitate with the oldies and would bring the girls into line as well. get over here. take my hand and take me out of this chair, out of this sitting desparately and swing me fervent, touching the floor with my toes. she lifts me up and leads me cross the room. push hard against the wall hard against my back. thigh and hip pause and step. once again across the room and my moment is over all and all. what more can one expect with such moments and high heels.
lace against face and tight wads of cash inside pocket.
3:45
ran into a thought and it wont let me go. got all my time mixed up not sure if clocks count up or around. or not at all. i'm locked in this stupid box. flittering away, counting my time and her time. waiting for something to happen.
let me know when things change.
i'll be here.
and now i'm getting filtered through the system. drain me baby, maybe, sanitise the passage, get on the back of my message. i can't get through to harry cock. he's got an image. what a strange world on a meta level. What recourse may be taken when such a filter may destroy your commercial advantage. I suppose you don't really hear any complaints from the online sex industry. Their customers know where to go. But just think of all the business with an inkling in their name, the filter applies, and their multi million dot com comes to no avail. better join the winners, alongside the wankers, they're in the dot come first making dough money fuck business.
right?
just let me readjust that top heavy engine. swap it for a lighter one. followed by a rehaul, and spit out that disk madame.
So I guess. No one will ever forget Robert Cappa.
Labels: cock, fuck
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