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After a popular woman dies the reasons behind
ย ย ย ย ย ย her popularity are dismissed by the legions of
ย ย ย ย ย ย less-popular women who have yet to crap out.
(14) I eat fleas. (15) I have V.D.๏ปฟ ~ A cherry pie hides cherries until the lid comes off. It's that way with a primary wife. She bears no fault with her serious threats to butcher you, to disown you, to **** you for no reason. Once the pudding's turned, the plastic spoon is on stand-by. Each day roaches are crushed, snakes & chickens are beheaded, pigs are bled to make linoleum. There's a hole in my floor. Porky must die! Unwanted toe nails are a pain. They're nothing like teeth because loose teeth aren't shod in shoes. Let me enjoy the beaches that you have in your huge and intelligent brain. Ashanti is my middle name except I spell it with a C between the S & H, and instead of ending with an I, mine ends in EY. I got hairy ****. That's good from a young opossum's point of vantage. The freshest o'-woe-is-me introspective poem winds, & whines, its way "whinily" into French ports veered directionally.
The divorce rate for B.D.s (bus drivers) is 102% above the national average. Be patient. Some day a bus driver will win your love & respect.
I was eating a T.V. dinner on the porch yesterday when a neighbor vomited on himself by accident in his car. I ran over to him to offer help. He told me that he was alright so I returned to my porch. Later, the neighbor's wife arrived home and commenced to ***** all over herself. Being inquisitive, I went to her. "I saw your husband puking all over himself earlier," I informed. "Yes," she said, while smearing puke everywhere. "It's our twenty-third wedding anniversary."๏ปฟ
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