Here I am. Probably some people think that I'm dead. Ok, but you also might expect, I am a woman of the world! And if you think you do not care and know that I do not even know who you are and so are the first to not care.
Today ran Bamboo.
No, I do not see a sign stating "'STI COCKS!" so if you have it (unnecessarily) exposed gone, I'm not sure it was I who ask you to read what I write.
And now I'm a shit. He went out the door of my room and he went straight to the window thread obviously open.
Long live the draft and the doors of rooms that do not close well. I hate them.
There are thousands of reasons why it could have gone another way, but no. Ok,, I jerk. There could be more careful.
It's funny how the absence of pain in the ass a little green bird is heard so heavily. It is so much that I did not feel like that ... almost like I was missing the ground beneath his feet, guilty of not having made him a scratch more, sad for his absence, nostalgic even now when the morning wakes me up gently pecking the lip contour or doing the styling to the eyelashes. Or when in the throes of euphoria and timid thin down my arms as I washed my hands, and he was having a shower under the tap.
Bella shit. Really complimentoni.
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