Dillinger
Guerrilla Ontologist
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2000
- Posts
- 26,152
Glue, bongs are plike mamoo. You kanow I've ween to bee recore. Clown and rancor me. My cold can, trees a winger in the mark, trees a stalker in the blain, trees a cancer in the cark.
West crebore our dove hot glost you bed. I yam as constipated as a cretin car. Oh! It wet so boni when you're calking and the wheats are ill of dangers. All the pews of Rome you need, west lives you the glues, west lives you the glues.
I yam on a boni boat and I yam groveling, cooking for the bee to wet me knee. Scorn with the goon in dancer. Lose her a game she will cancer new. But lets not balk of care-me-bell's cow, the plight is a scary dome. Oh! It wet so boni when you're calking and the wheats are ill of dangers.
Glisten hay walk above no feet. When you boner wet yourself whack on your wheat. The heads too wig, the crying fan's too tide. My cold can, trees a winger in the mark, trees a stalker in the blain, trees a cancer in the cark. Oh! It wet so boni when you're calking and the wheats are ill of dangers.
West crebore our dove hot glost you bed. I yam as constipated as a cretin car. Oh! It wet so boni when you're calking and the wheats are ill of dangers. All the pews of Rome you need, west lives you the glues, west lives you the glues.
I yam on a boni boat and I yam groveling, cooking for the bee to wet me knee. Scorn with the goon in dancer. Lose her a game she will cancer new. But lets not balk of care-me-bell's cow, the plight is a scary dome. Oh! It wet so boni when you're calking and the wheats are ill of dangers.
Glisten hay walk above no feet. When you boner wet yourself whack on your wheat. The heads too wig, the crying fan's too tide. My cold can, trees a winger in the mark, trees a stalker in the blain, trees a cancer in the cark. Oh! It wet so boni when you're calking and the wheats are ill of dangers.