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Admin. praise and glory

Anybody that is anybody knows the most fabulous and trendy accessory are socks.
Crew, No-Show, Knee high.
The ever versatile socks are the most righteous thing.
The Ancient Greeks may have had some dark ages, but they were the first people that we know of that thought,
Hey shoes are cool, but what if we made them more flexible and soft.
Thus the mighty sock was born.
Now there are some of you who may think completely different about socks.
Maybe they are boring, or annoying.
You are feeling the Albert Einstein side of socks. (He didn’t wear socks because he didn’t see the point, tragic huh?)
Well friends, though you may be genius you are completely idiotic.
Socks are little hugs wrapped around your feet. All day. They are like butterfly kisses that mae you smile every time you look down. What is better than that?
The answer is nothing.
Queen Freaking Elizabeth loved socks and went to the inventor of the knitting machine (which was originally created to make socks) to have custom socks made.
Not only are socks just incredibly wonderful and stylish, they were invented to help save the world… from sticky feet.
Socks help prevent your human sweat drops from seeping into your shoes, making a perfect nesting place for the teenage mutant ninja turtles. Disgusing
In conclusion, nothing can or ever will be more awe founding or perfect than socks

I never put away all of these socks,
there's just something so final about putting away
all the socks. When I close the drawer after putting away
the clothes, its like saying "remain here for awhile,
for I do not plan to wear you again for some time".

But putting away all of the socks
is like saying "stay here,
I'm not going anywhere". What if
something pops up though?
It gets cold, a friend calls
with exciting plans and I must say,
"No sorry, I just put away all of my socks"

Whats the point in putting them all away if I just
go right back and take some out? Might as well
leave a pair or two by the shoes, at the ready.

Plus whenever I put away all the socks
I find the stragglers, the lone socks, the swiss socks,
the worn out ones and then I have to make difficult
decisions. Weighing the severity of the tears against
how uncomfortable they'll be. Designating indoor only
socks and how many more wears a sock can receive before,
garbage. And every time I put on a sock like this I shed a tear
because socks don't receive burials. Socks are easily replaced.
It's just not worth the trouble to put away all these socks.

I heard every word you said.
Still running through my head.
Your words like a needle, slowly pricking my skin.
Prodding, picking finally making themselves slowly in.
Staring off into the street, I knew I had to walk away.
I could’nt bear stay nor listen to another word you say.
Ashamed to have felt something more.
My heart grew heavy and very sore.
I slipped away, blankly into space.
Disappointment and anger staring me in the face.



I’m like a sock.
A ***** one.
However, twasn’t ***** at first.
In fact it was brand new. Really, a very nice beautiful sock.
It was comfortable too, and fit you well.
You wore it so often, the fabric became thin.
Eventually a tiny little hole made its way in.
At first the hole wasn’t bad.
Sometimes it drove you crazy and even mad.
Yah know that feeling when all that sand gets in?
Though irritating maybe it tickled, even made you grin.
Boy! Did those socks get a lot of use, they were great.
You still loved those socks.
They were getting rattier and rattier every day, but you used them anyway.
They were THE socks yah know? You see them, and you know you JUST want to wear them.
So you wear them, you have a run, a WONDERFUL day ,in fact, in those socks.
Really, you always have nice days in those socks, they were just so comfortable!
You know how things get old? Well those socks got really old, I mean REALLY old.
Looking at them- “Man those socks are the best, putting them on now.”
You wish they would last but you just didn’t know how.
Excited to start your day, you put your favorite socks on.
But, ****… one sock really ripped with a giant massive hole.
Such a disappointment, you can’t really enjoy them anymore, they were better when you first bought them.
MAN, that hole got so irritating.
Not only sand came in but now pebbles and big rocks.
That **** pair of socks!
Not willing to throw them away cuz they were THE socks.
You washed them and put them in a far off box. Still *****, worn, and torn. Maybe you will use them again one day.
But, I don’t want to be your ***** socks.
I walked away.

who would i consider to be the greatest teachers on women?
Stendhal, Marquis de Sade, Ovid...
Flaubert: most certainly Flaubert... but now most certainly
Ovid too...
i might go as far as to drop Knausgaard into the equation
(oddly enough)...
how else would i have learned a little bit about women
if not men who learned about women and recorded
their findings... i might even whisper the name Nietzsche
to further my "question"...

it started with her showing me her leg...
   some ugly spider bit it in two places: she was so disgruntled
about it... she showed the bite: started to squeeze it:
if i could have guessed: if she could bend so far low
she would have probably tried biting that piece of flesh
out of her...
i told her a worthwhile remedy:
OCET SPIRITUSOWY (10%) you can go into and ******
delicatessen and buy it... rub it onto the bite mark...

but that still didn't lift the mood: i felt awkward...
i can sniff a lie from a mile away: women are the greatest
liars when they speak: unfortunately:
they're the worst liars when they don't speak...
you can lie by speaking lies...
but you can also lie by not telling the truth:
i.e. by not talking...
a burning thought oozes out on the body and the body
cannot lie...
there was some ill in the air...
the entire room was on fire... even she said:
why is it so hot in this room when outside it's cool?
the entire room was on fire...

i think she was furious with me...
i promised her that i would come on said day and i did:
perhaps i've become too predictable for her liking?
something ill was in the air...
it wasn't just the spider bite and her annoyance
with it: a woman can make the smallest irk
into a deluge of irks...
   the smallest thing can become the greatest discomfort
for a woman...
i could feel it: although she said nothing
when i asked her if she was o.k., whether she was tired...
something strange about her eyes...

ah... eye-lash extensions: i didn't compliment
on them... i noticed something different about them...
after a super-quick quickie:
i don't know... there's something potent about
the ******* position in front of two mirrors...
her kneeling on the bed me standing by the bed
thrusting... maybe i was too tired ergo too *****
i couldn't perform to her pleasure: only to my own...
thankfully my male pride wasn't hurt...
i always brush off under-performing by laughing
after the ******...
i'm not going to explain myself beyond:
not every woman climaxes every time during *******:
not every man can go on for an hour
without climaxing... i told her just that:
it depends what mindset i'm wearing...
  sometimes it takes me as much time as it might
take a woodland pigeon... enough time to only
balance on the female while flapping its wings...
sometimes in the ******* i'm peering
into the eyes of a mantis and hoping she will not
eat me afterwards: ergo: i try to not deposit any
albino tadpoles into her...

afterwards we lay ****-naked side by side
on the bed... then i noticed her elongated eyelashes...
we talked about them... how they're new
and are itching her eyes...
woman: natural born sadists and that sadism concerning
beauty to boot...
i said: you noticed the trend among black girls?
camel eyes: eye-lashes for thick and long they could
possibly brush their eye-brows...
and nails... my god... you can't do anything with nails
that long... and hair?! once upon a time black girls
adored their afro curls... now?
they're imitating white women's hair... Asian women's hair:
they even employ wigs to imitate that raven slickness...
i remember a time in high school when black girls
would use vaseline cream to smooth out their afros...
she agreed about the nails and eye-lashes:

come on! you can't make a ******* sandwich with nails
that long...
nails... i looked at her nails... she showed me that
she needed a manicure... she showed me some designs
from the internet that she'd like to have...
then she showed me her toenails...
that's another thing... i knew something was wrong...
she didn't take her socks off during *******...
that's a major sign that something is wrong...
seriously! who the hell ***** with their socks on?
it's like that Iron Maiden song: die with your boots
on...
something was seriously wrong...
maybe it was me: maybe it wasn't me...
it's too late for that...

once upon a time women were the greatest mysteries
of the literary world...
men would spend aeons contemplating
their mysteries: and if not mysterious per se...
then men would mystify them!
now? women are sabotaging themselves...
they're exposing themselves in ways so crude so...
sick... so... unappealing...
it's hard to mystify women these days...
me? hardly having lost touch with reality:
i've lost touch with an un-reality...
with romanticism...
              
Michaela, as a woman? not every man's cup of tea...
but then again i like large women...
not obese... when she lay back and feigned tiredness
putting her leg on top of mine...
chatting... i played her Le Trio Joubran's
Majaz... and told her the story about how i first
heard the song...
i was in Amsterdam with this Egyptian guy...
i was drinking beer, he was smoking ****...
then he gave me a drag of the ****
and told me to put his headphones on... he played
the song: and i showed her my reaction:
my JAW DROPPED... my eyes closed...
i was suspended in a "falling gravity"...
no... in a "whirling gravity" of my own empty canvas
presence... an implosion of Heidegger's dasein...
there was no "there"... there was either
sein or nichtsein and hier...

ha ha... i was talking to my father today in the car
as he helped me get my second bicycle
get driven the repair shop... finally!
i'll get my mountain bicycle up to speed...
i'll get off the roads and head into the wilderness...
£80... not a bad deal for the repairs needed...
and he mentioned that there's this Romanian
woman working the hoist on the construction
site... he said that the most difficult word in Romanian
is... 11...
unsprezece - uns... one... pre: before... zece...
i need diacritical markers for this one...
or? just employ Italian...
unsprezecce...              unsprezeče...
hell... with the expansion of the European Union...
of the Polacks that came in 2008... most have left...
only a few remain...
but the Romanians stuck to their guns...
after all: they can easily mingle with the hordes from
Asia... come to think of it:
England is starting to glisten with a demographic
akin to Brazil... i think i'm going to start calling
England Brazil no. 2... it's clearly post-racial
in what ecosystem we have...
black boys loving white girls...
white boys not really into any other race:
well... i have my exceptions... Turkish and Romanian...
but that's me...

but sort of woman in what sort of mood doesn't
take her socks off during ***?!
i find it most irritable: not ******* in the dim
lights with your socks on...
maybe the ill and the fire in the air
was my own self evaporating into their air...
irritated by this lack of aesthetic...
maybe it wasn't her: maybe it was me...
then again: she's was already thinking about going
back to Romania...

better than being a rock star...
what i wouldn't give: none of my books...
to become a blues-man... a Howlin' Wolf...
then again: i wouldn't do nothing: absolutely: nothing...
having spent 2 years of my 20s reading
up on Heidegger...
i'm good... if i get really thirsty: i'll just buy
half a watermelon and gorge on it like
it might be a woman's ******... i'll get my beard wet
and try not to bring either ****** or umbrella:
cheap *** ******* little questionable
little me...
i didn't say i'm a millionaire...
but i said i spent more money than a millionaire...
love those lyrics...
blues and ***... ******* becomes
distasteful after a while:
the while you realise those people are
actors... and *** is hardly acting:
*** comes around to you in its most authentic
claim of your self you can ever have...
while ******* disrupts all of that...

it's never going to be a pornographic flick
when real life hits the fan...
the **** can lie as a pile dragging itself to the status
of diamond among flies on
some random hill...

tube strikes... only start working from 8am...
of course i'll be late for my shift at Fulham...
but i'm still drinking...
enough of whiskey and enough of the blues
and enough of thinking about thinking about ***...
i'm not going back to the brothel
until Michaela ***** off to Romania on the 28th of this month...
i already have two girls in my sight...
deer-in-headlights... sitting pretty: sitting scared...

i need to become more unpredictable...
i need to ensure the girl takes her socks off...
Michaela is very much unlike Khadijah...
she doesn't wash herself after ***...
and she's the one asking me for extra pay
for unprotected ***...
at least Khadijah washed herself...
i washed her... she washed me after *******...
i like *** + hygiene...
must be a Turkish "thing"...

                        no... i'm not going to feel **** about
myself... there's no point:
i simply can't change other people by pretending
to change myself... i'lll wait until Michaela is out
of the picture... she put me off *** for a bit...
i can sink into a diet of sexless days...
but no... you don't get away with being sloppy...
you don't get to **** with your socks on!

she might have thought that i didn't notice that
she had eye-lash extension...
what's with the socks?!
  you forgot you were wearing shoes,
or something?!
******* while still having your socks on...
oh man oh man oh man...
that's why the room was on fire!
**** it!  start donning fishnet stockings!
i could manage that...
start donning long knee-teasing leather boots!
i could stomach that! but socks?!
i can't stomach that...
           i'm expected to put on a ******
while... a woman is not expected to take her socks off?!
throw rocks at me! throw 'em!

there are just aesthetic standards...
that's the last time i paid so much eye-candy on a woman
no prior man would pay her her dues...
me neither: i have skin like it's worth
grating a grand cheddar cheese on...
but... tender... i can: be...
she just felt bored... and i felt predicable:
onto the next...
maybe she flashed her phone before my eyes
to boot: showcasing her grand achievement
of a bambino outside of wedlock:
probably raised by her grandparents...

Darwinism is a scam in my cards...
either Poker or Blackjack...
i'm a sore loser with genes that ought to be replicated...
20-20 vision... pretty **** good hearing...
i've never broken a bone in my body...
if i get hurt and my bones are affect?
i create bone outgrowths... bulges of bone...
genetically? i'm not too bad...
but in terms of reality: i'm not a safe-bet...
and guess what? i like mediocre people...
shadow-grey-people...
i like them: they make good traffic obstacles...
they make me churn out a practice
in spatial awareness...
i can denote them to THINGS and rob them of
the status of NOUNS...
something... this thing... that thing...
whatever... no bother... i'm casual like that...

hey! like for like!
Michaela: the 28th of this month better come sooner
than you leaving for Romania! make sure you have
your socks on! all the time!
that ****** me off... a woman that keeps her socks
on during *** is like... is like... a woman eating a meal
without a knife when a knife and fork is required!
or a man... for that matter...
socks during *** is just a massive turn-off:
i best finish early... i'm ******* clocking-out...
no! not on a whim! i'm clocking out because aesthetics
and the blues and thinking about what *** is about...
Eden...
not talking... groaning and moaning...
onomatopoeias...
                        
hmm! that's why the room was on fire!
i finished early because? she was wearing socks...
that's why the air in the room felt ill!
because she never bothered to wash herself
after we had ***... Khadijah did...
each time... i showcased washing my genitals after every
genitals:
i might be a brute... but: in terms of hygiene:
i'm pretty exacting regarding what's appealing
                                               and what isn't...

i can't stand filthy people...
show me a rat...
             show me a bunch of rats...
i'll show you a pretty cheese chamber with plenty
of the right sort of gas...
i'm not joking...
   i wish... oh i wish i were joking...

                      by now... does it even matter?
by now i don't think it even matters...
should it matter shouldn't it?
it never really matter given enough time...
             time truly flies: regardless of whether you're
having fun or not...
by the drop, the drip, the drool or either blood
or water... or a sprinkle of salt or sand...
what's good is wasted over so much time...
while what's bad... wastes the mind over a time
best entrusted in keeping a memory of the good times...

my beard! my ******* violin!
i stroke it and imagine playing a sad sad... song;
but the cynic in me: laughs...
just like a dog looks up at his master when being walked on
a leash!

I threw out his socks today.
Those ******* socks.
Long Black Nike Socks that went up to his calves.
Long Black Nike Socks that he wore with his Two Hundred Dollar
French Raw Denim Jeans because he needed the Short Black Nike Socks
To wear to work with his Khaki Dickies Shorts.
Black Nike Socks that he reminded me for months he "needed"
For his birthday in order to function properly.
Black Nike Socks that didn't cost enough to be considered
A sufficient birthday gift,
Along with some other cute things (I thought),
Including a homemade coupon for dinner at
Any restaurant of his choice.
Short Black Nike Socks whose thirty-dollar price tag
Wasn't quite up to par with the forty-dollar
Concert ticket his obviously-better-than-me friend had
So benevolently bought him.
Those ******* socks.

when i was
thirteen
i remember whenever i went over
to a friend's house
who had a sort of get-together
with a whole ton of other kids
about once a month
i'd sit on the rug in their basement
with twenty other teenagers
looking at
socks.

there are ten kids
in my family
and two ****** parents
and we had a whole bathtub full of socks
and if you could find two that actually fit
you were golden
never mind matching
or nice and white...
and sitting
looking at all the other kids' socks
i felt like ****
they had the nicest
whitest
socks you ever saw
and mine were grey
worn
dilapidated
specimens
that i'd dug out from the very
bottom.
and somehow i decided
that this was a failure
on my mother's part
that she didn't keep our floors
clean enough
or she didn't wash my socks
right
and so i spent my thirteenth year
feeling like ****
over
socks

and today
i was folding some socks
(do you fold socks? i dunno how it works. whatever)
and i was looking at them
colorful
silly
but
grungy still
and the white ones
still grey
and i thought
well
i don't have a mother anymore
and my socks still aren't
white and
nice
i guess that's one less ****** thing
in my life
i don't have to blame her for
anymore
another nice thing
is that i don't give a ****
about socks

socks
warm socks
socks like winter
socks that might come off in your boots
when trudging through foot-deep snow
but will be just right for lying atop mountains of pillows
as many pillows as are in your house
your house that smells
like you

there’s no snow now
just rain
and rain and rain and rain
and rain
but it’s cold enough outside these walls
and cold enough inside our skulls
to warrant hot chocolate, hats and hand-holding
and cuddles until we feel ourselves bleeding
enough sun from our chests, however fleeting,
enough laughter from our eyes
enough love from our lungs
enough warmth rom our sock-clad feet
enough spark from where my fingers meet
your hair
to forget the red skin sap
and sticky spilling squeezed lashes of yesterday
let’s just pretend we can forget yesterday
i’d like to forget yesterday

socks yes
we’ll put on socks
we’ll put on warm socks
and switch our clothes
until we can’t even pretend to know
any other smell than each other
and we won’t tell your mother how sad we are
we won’t tell her that anything bled but my eyes
and then maybe she’ll let you stay the night
and you’ll stay
talking about how beautiful the sunset is while i cry
and watch you glow

so that’s how it’ll be
we’ll put on socks
and put up walls of blankets
and only let each other inside
you’ll hold my hand
i’ll stroke your hair
and maybe we’ll be warm like that
while the rain keeps falling outside

Depression is Skipping meals because it's easier to be hungry than it is to get myself out of bed

Depression is Sitting on the floor and desperately trying to talk myself into putting socks on...
Because putting socks on would require wiggling up the bottom of my skinny jeans, putting the socks on my feet, and then carefully pulling the jeans back over my socks without messing them up (you know the feeling I'm talking about)

Depression is struggling with the socks because I know once that part is over, I'll have to put shoes on- the converse match my outfit.
But I've got a wide foot, and I can take converse off without untying them, but I HAVE to untie them to put them back on.
So I have to untie these shoes,
And the RETIE THEM. It's a lot. It feels like so much.
I know it shouldn't.
It's putting on shoes.

But wait, there's more!

Once the shoes are on, I've got to pack my book bag, Which first requires taking the stuff out.
Once the stuff is out, I have to put that stuff in its place.
then I've got to put more stuff in the bag,
I have to put the bag on
Walk out the door,
Eat.
Class.
Rehearsal.
Drive
Park
Walk to my building
Up the stairs
in the room.

Take the shoes off
Change,
Lay in bed

Know that I could've been in bed all day
Try to celebrate what little I did
Fail.

Toss and turn knowing I should've done more.
Fall asleep feeling alone, wondering why I'm never satisfied.

Wake up.
Meds.
Socks?...-
Realize it barely changes

Because

I'm sitting here typing this at 3:53 pm
When I should be
Putting.
My.
*******.
Socks.
On.

Between the disabled sunset with the police,
The foot of the foot is equal to the mother
who wrote the beginning of the light in the Cold Age
of wave machinery and strippers feeding on roasted
chicken.            ||  It is a natural spiritual expression.
On coming to ground radio burning blockages.
Marcus slipped out to **** and now hides |||
from the swan city;      And the ultimate magic
wins about Einstein;    If you are a living radio
like paradise on the computer;
He warned those who were now standing.
Baby ***** before her sister gets near,
Speaking of a happy husband eating ****.
Products concerned about site sites.
If you are a human being,     we know Portuguese.
1 mystery of life and abstractness;
using the John Deere led to a shock,
My father was good, for example,         to be able
to make the use of:
The green slim active in her Chinese parts
and the slender finger to feel the hot feet walking
to Genoa for Karachi's kiss.
Me and around me, feeling smart;
the woman broken, into smaller habitats for Sodomites,
fire, stealing and debt,                      but in reality
Unfortunately, it starts to provide new food
The answer is that you are young and old.
The world was a cheat,   an apparition of the AP;
Asian *** Corporation's infection of the party.
Drink, drink, drink, and come suddenly,
You do not drink between the trees in your socks,
in a woman, or to rise, and to die,
you have to stop one day for the dog waiting for you,
Meaning the transfer and conversion of ions.
Enter the number you want to add.
* * No song is available anymore. The old man he outlived,
The socks of the hands keep the eyes uncovered,
and a Building almost directly bought by six divines;
the naked look from the top of the stomach,
Especially if you have the abortion look.
Looking on a stomach pattern,               you are thinking,
And what do you want me to do for you,
or what do you want to do?
When you do the will of the people,           remember it,
along with the love of people between the injured police
at sunset
underfoot but equal to his mother,                          who
In the beginning of the age of light in the cold
waves of the works,                 a colt the stripper feeds
only roasted grains as Natural to the spirit.
Who, when they were,  and come to the radio,
is worn down which burneth with an obstacle.
Marcus slipped in to ****,           State hiding the swan,
but the ultimate magic that Einstein wins,
If you are living like a radio paradise on the computer;
He warned that those who are now standing still
in the presence of an infant, suckled as it is close
to her sister,             | Speaking of a happy man eating
a stern steer,   products concerned about the situation;
If you are a man,      you know Portuguese.
1 The mystery of life and a process of abstraction,
John Deere led to a shock;             the good father,
for example,            should be able to make use of
The green slime, active and in Chinese pairs.
This is the subtle finger,                      at his feet,
to walk while feeling hot into her Karachi arms
and sunkissed
Genoa; me, and around me,     feeling the pain,
a woman is to be released to a small location,
not a queen,  on fire and in debt, cheating,
but in reality unfortunately,    it begins to provide
new food; the answer that you are young and old.
In the world there was no power,        AP apparition
Asian *** Corporation; the infection of a part to the
Drink, drink, and be to come will come, and I will
not drink among the tree socks of a woman,
or arise at the dead time of waiting for the dog to stop;
Love is the conversion of ions.              Enter the number
you wish you add. * * * *  Carmen is no longer available.
An old man lived; The socks are to keep to hand,
of the eyes building from himself,  almost godlike by six;
                          The naked look at the top of the stomach
If you look especially for an abortion.
When I think of the bra model,       and what do you want
to do, you want to do?                When thou makest a will,
does not thou make mention of thy love?
Doms are born crippled, sleeping with cops,
walking barefoot,                mother equals who wrote
the start of the lights at the tender age,
wave machine,  stripper characters into fried chicken,
flaring tempers are natural,         the spirit of painting
on the beach entering the radio and burning the obstacles
in the house of the ***-******* Ivan, on top,
United and hidden in the Swan City
of Einstein's ultimate triumphs over the magical
computer of a Fat Ham Radio on the Road to Paradise
it notifies us that the people who are standing
before the giant **** of the nearby Sisters,
speaking of **** and eating feminine hygiene
products. this poem is of the sacred places.

If you are a sacred man,              we know Portugiski.
the desert of 1 lives in the abstract,
to keep John Deere ted to the monster
whose kindness, for example, we could use,
Leather and Flames, Slim, Alive, Pious and Chinese,
with skinny toes,       legs feeling warm from all that walking,
knees feeling stupid,                             kiss me, put your arms
around me and let me savor the sensation;
female, broken,                 Sodomite from the lower Kingdom,
winds, kidnappings,            |       the bandwidth of **** reality
began the fresh offer to the       ||              Beloved of the flesh,
the answer is that you are the youth, the origin
of the witch of the planet was an apparition AP,
the Asian ****** corporation;                      The opposite wing
does not speak, I drink, I drink,                   I'm suddenly drunk
or I get up in the middle of the bar;               in feminine socks
the dying dog is waiting for rain to stop,
says ions moving and changing the meaning
of the number of tickets opting for the strange
* ode * without the known Jew.      The ancient order lived
invisible forever keeping the path of the viola to the socks
of the flat **** goddesses that lead almost directly
from the ******* bar and looks up at her *****;
If you're going to shoot with a predominantly ****
point-of-view from the bra, than you have to think
what would you like to do or want to be done to you
when does he make love to you?    Remember to imagine
in the plural, Love
|
Among the police offenses at sunset
in the mother tongue of the beginning of the age,
however the light in the cold. The work of the waves
and poultry feed to the stripper load
Natural to the spirits. When,   when they arrive
at the radio they burn the forest with obstacles.
The ship is running to break them.
Records hide and Swan; However,
the ultimate magic Einstein wins; If you are
a ray living in a paradise like a computer.
Imagine those who are now standing up.
in the presence of an infant suckling her ****
that is almost up to her sister, speaking of
sweet people eating a stagnant phenomenon.
Products of the situation of the existence
of abstract patterns;    John's roe deer led to a shock;
and the Father is, for example,
if he is able to use it,
The two-digit, Chinese handbag.
This is a fine finger and forefoot feeling to hot to walk
kissing Genoa's                        arming of stupid polling.
Me, and around me,                              feeling the pain;
The women have to be released for a little amount
of status,     she is the queen of fire because of cheating,
but in reality. Unfortunately, you start to offer new food
The answer is that you are young and old.
In the world, and there's no power, APC apparition
Asian *** Corporation; party disease, Drink, drink,
I will not come and drink of the fruit of the generations;
There are socks between trees and a woman, or the rise,
to stop waiting for the moment of the dead,
and with a dog,           Love will cause ions.
Among the numbers you want to add is further.
* *                    Carmen is no longer supported. The Mediterranean
lived Socks in hand,                as we have seen.
We write for themselves,                           almost godlike about six.
Consider it empty
If you look at every abortion,
I'm thinking ******* template,
And what do you want to do,    or want me to do?
When you drink a cup of coffee,           |    do not mention
their love

In the morning,      the sun is the greatest among officials;
The Mother Tongue at the beginning of the season of light
in the cold ocean waves and chickens to load
and natural spirits.    When they did not arrive at the radio,
who is to burn the bush to them.
This car runs to break them.
A Broken record magazines, however, Einstein's success
is unsuccessful if the light in paradise is just like a computer.
Left to upheld the fetus before the drink,
almost everyone to his brother talks and who
are the couple with the happy delivery.
The products set. If you are a man,       you know Portuguese.
1, and to abstract the forms and in the mysteries of the world;
John's deer accident survivor,      he is the father, for example,
if you can fit ******* into a Chinese handbag,
This is the finger,        |     |  and a warm feeling of the walking
paws at Genoa, O thou weapons of lewdness hast polluted the kiss.
Me, and around me, feeling his grief;
Women must have the records,      
| |   that the State is of a Queen
for the sake of which the option, | there is in Him.
Until they start making the new foods
the answer is that you are young and old.
In the world,       and there is power and power PC
Asia Corporation ***; the third part of the disease;
Drink me, drink young, forever.   The socks
are among the trees on a woman, or the rise;
stand and wait for the time of the dead
when the dog desires to cause ions
in large numbers,     |  you want to add more.
Catullus can not miss. || ||The power of art,|||
and they also wear their own clothes, as we have seen.
You write that we, our kings,    
are almost to be found
in almost six full years.
The search if empty
if you look for an abortion.
And I think plate plate.
And what do you want to do?
What you want me to do?
When you drank of the cup, || I did not mention
their love translations of wait, a verb:  exspecto,
expect, wait, look for, await, look out,
long; expecto; expect, look for,   wait,
await, hope, look out, opperior;   wait,
await. operior; wait, await praestolor,
wait, be ready, be prepared,      expect
maneo abide, remain, stay,    continue,
await, wait manto, stay, remain,   wait,
awaiting demoror;    don't        delaying hindering
the ******,
keep back, don't linger, but wait;  ministro serves,
wait to attend to assisting the supply,
providing praeministro attends,  ||   serve,
or serve up presents with, or to make a present of,
wait, noun: exspectatio,        expectation, looking
for, prospect, wait, awaiting, expecting;
expectatio; expectation, looking for,
prospect, wait, awaiting, expecting,
mora; delay, clog, stay, wait,  Pause,

Time