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Mar 2013
Your so dead, your killing me, incessant worry and placated misery. Why cant you let your light burn out, do us all a favor and breath your last breath of life in and out. It's a plungers job in a toilet to let the **** flow why must you insist on clogging up the drains and not letting that **** go. Die, die, die a thousand deaths, suffer indescribably and claw wretchedly until there is nothing left.
Written by
Jordan
398
   karin naude
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