W H O L L Y T E X T S

 

THINK FOR YOURSELF. THAT'S IT, ASSHOLE!

  I JUST WANT TO TAKE HER BIKINI OFF MYSELF? God. Let me fuck the universe! Cream? I bow and pray and obey and slit me brain.
THE FICTIONAL ORGASM OF DESERT TEDDIES...Pesticides in your dog.
The young mama around a younger Alamo phatic-gene party/pleasure pods in number 2 bay. A TONE POET EATS HIS OWN FINGERS! Yeah.

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