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May 31
CLAUDIA'S THRILLING ADVENTURES IN NORTH SWEDEN
Claudia waited for me in the vice president's bedroom. Her long arms seemed to have shrunk an inch since I saw her with that awful ****. โ€œWipe that smile off your ugly face. Your donkey isn't going to make it,โ€ she spoke carelessly. โ€œPoor Petunia is dying?โ€ I wept, heart-sickened. โ€œYes,โ€ evil Claudia answered as rotten chunks of decayed flesh fell from her blue face & chest. โ€œI hate you a lot!โ€ I exclaimed. โ€œMonday you'll be in hell, boiling in an orange ocean of hot things!โ€ Later on, after my donkey got hit by 4 Mack trucks screaming through a Catholic school zone at 85-miles-per-hour because the driver was a queer Mexican, Claudia apologized for 10 minutes and presented her mega-**** cousin to me. Her first name was Katrina and she hadn't experienced the intimate love of a virile guy before. โ€œTake off that pink string bikini,โ€ I ordered, โ€œand we'll tunnel to Egypt together.โ€ For 63 heart-stopping, clot-shot days we made love together on the balcony of my billion-dollar penthouse apartment in north Sweden. Those were gay times: skin-diving for enormous clams; filling leaky ***** bags with really rancid cottage cheese; ambushing innocent cops behind the Uruguayan embassy.
๐‘ท๐’๐’๐’‚ ๐˜‰๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ๐˜บ
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๐‘ท๐’๐’๐’‚ ๐˜‰๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ๐˜บ  หขโฑแตแต–แตƒโฟแต แดฎแต‰แตˆแต’แต, หขโฑโฟแตแตƒแต–แต’สณแต‰
(หขโฑแตแต–แตƒโฟแต แดฎแต‰แตˆแต’แต, หขโฑโฟแตแตƒแต–แต’สณแต‰)   
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