Trigger Capri

liver, happening!
this mask is happier than a papoose set wild on a campstove ramp running straight into labor day. "that's a latrine!" but it was too late. the oats hath festered, as the mane whistled windward and backs were turned to the group warning. whispers rippled through the myriad of sectional couches, braziers, and hamstrings (novice attachment), not to mention great wafting chortles of joy streaming up through the grate of never-the-less efforts. always proper, always consumers. the moon cycle makes me horny. so does a good fish taco, but let's stick to the chapter at hand: mumu, a historical perspective. this lectures in massive duality. pensive socks. ripping corpse. a ball breaker.