Hello Burial

I do it for the Dwarves. No, not little people. Real Live Dwarves. My favorite song, back to the title, is only fifty seconds long, but I don't know how to download, so I listen to twenty seconds, over and over. Favorite for a minute, most definitely a minuet, how many times have they yet? It only needs to make sense to me. Huh? No. How I learned to want to be a housewife; gritty smiles; a growing respect for all those women; there's a how for you. Psych, I went on to Picastro, but they weren't for me, so I went for the Stars.

My Favorite Survivor

Linda mfing Ellerbee. I miss Molly. Contractions, start early. Who knew? I love my love. I even love that everyone else could give a; didn't think I needed to, for once, but for you: fuck; anyanything.

Tv Iht Ipod Porn Jump Sleeping Beauty

They leap behind enemy lines, to fight them from the rear. Sheesh, promo magic brainsticker moment. No gays in the military? Ya'sure? Your MCA blocks slash/sigh here. Ok, Dub hates kids and the dollar(weaker than the '08 slate) too. Why Russian liberals lose? Because they prefer breathing to not? China wants your turtles meat. More cameras than people. Good luck babies. Now. To the rainmaker!

Something Dulce

Emergent tree shrew of the blogospherion reporting for duty, Sir! What're you doing? Yadas, add emphasis later, yadas. Reconnecting with family: What tv bust's do when the writers strike, and what pols do after a scandal. My baby got the third try blue, as little one pushes buttons in the back(and front, its a zippy thing; no not indescribable, just more un) and speaking words above adult grade, for hereabouts; get a sentence right and talk. Noted. No not really. But I know better than to talk down to anyone, even the non enigmas. Why you gotta have de bar? Dey know. I do it for the Mam. Spell it how you want.