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He knew it would take muchos huevos to play, but his game plan was good, and he’d be okay. Cause his were as big as the black or the bay patrolling with tabletop backs that were stacked with corrupt, hairy pigs who loved to talk smack, and who bristled with weapons to fend off attack. And, though the opiners would say it was rash, he never could stand it to sit on his *** So, he hurled his armored gelatinous mass with a splurge of insouciance at all those legs. The guards slung pejoratives – bent to fillet his ovoid trajectory into a splay of malfeasance – but their slashes only caught air as he flew like a mortar past their stony glare and that bold lettered sign he had read as a dare: “Tis Forbidden To Sit On the Wall” -- the King
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
In Which a Rebellion is Unwittingly Fomented by an Outrageous **** (or, Humpty Dumpty’s Last Hurrah)
He knew it would take muchos huevos to play, but his game plan was good, and he’d be okay. Cause his were as big as the black or the bay patrolling with tabletop backs that were stacked with corrupt, hairy pigs who loved to talk smack, and who bristled with weapons to fend off attack. And, though the opiners would say it was rash, he never could stand it to sit on his *** So, he hurled his armored gelatinous mass with a splurge of insouciance at all those legs. The guards slung pejoratives – bent to fillet his ovoid trajectory into a splay of malfeasance – but their slashes only caught air as he flew like a mortar past their stony glare and that bold lettered sign he had read as a dare: “Tis Forbidden To Sit On the Wall” -- the King
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American
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
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