Pop goes the weasel
And a merry old soul was he. Can thee not feel pulsing frantic pon thy Black Oak door. See him inside a me.
I know you are after me and I am going another walkies.
This is so chaotiuc. And it brings love unto two lonely
hearts. Beasting so frantic and
cool.
Humdrum hips holster his killing word getting the ladies sick with
tragic desire. sweat running down the crack of every
party bum.
Gunslingers walk. Known all over town. Laudinum many a farm wife saved her pennies till her saviour came rto town doctor Feel Good, was yas the cure all that ails
Yas. OK if ya don't be having no girls.
Blake
B . Rex: 02
Comments
Post a Comment