Had that fifth coffee. It’s kind of romantic. Nothing is ever WRITE.
Traitorous disguise. What lust. I lips like and no one knows. Who goes there? There is no garment for the darkness. There is just pajamas. By the off chance that I get to go, there, in some sort of way–would you take me? In your arms? And hold me down and run me over with the train. Toy set won’t make me cry. I’m just five, I’m just twenty-five, I’m just a hundred . and one dalmations . at the pub. Maybe I can do it. But not, so, hough. and ho. Ho ho ho, bitches.
Diamons in cut. No one knows the attention c-c-cravings. I’m mad. No one explain that to her! Don’t do it!
Just denote your intentions and we’ll be cool.
No ulterior motives, slut.
I can’t stop. Well we’re off, and out go the hunters, there come the guns, then some drugs, now war, now frenzy and mass panic. Oh this is a good one! I am liking this simulation run, friend. We, aliens, be so in control of the situation har har har how entertaining har how long do you think it’ll last?