We dance to “Brown Sugar”: high, drunk, sweaty. Wow, you really feel the music, she says. I plant a sloppy kiss on her and pass out.
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We dance to “Brown Sugar”: high, drunk, sweaty. Wow, you really feel the music, she says. I plant a sloppy kiss on her and pass out.
“If there are no stupid questions, then what kind of questions do stupid people ask? Do they get smart just in time to ask questions?”
© 2006–2009 Spitball Army — Sitemap — Cutline by Chris Pearson
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