| shit_poem_177 | ||
| paste! |
freeing up the lapses for when they really matter, the smoothness in the street rifles nada. it's a dedication to clothesline the dictator and then to have the gall to yank his tater tots. we have funny governments. I apologize for the smell of victory and the apathy of feet. you walk across the planet in search of a decent hotbox. where did they go those velour flagpoles? miserable ironing board. sank three times, the SS_Dalmatron_Candleface. got tree balance? fill it up to the top, Misconception Lep. I have dependents on my neck cause I stole them from the Czech. |
020407 |
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| god | wooooo!!!!!! | 020407 |
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| neuromancer | could we see 176? | 020408 |