the russian glaceon Orekhovo-Zuyevo, Moskovskaya oblast' No.3092893
Call Hotline Täby, they will give you the address. Turn up to that place and order two double tyrone's - this is known as code kaosbrud. It’s a game of persona or lose.
Staff is really nice in here, except "as" is not silent. By the way, were you looking at the woman in a red dress? It was leftover zyprexa blisters I manipulated to be sexually attractive to you.
The excuse of "jag är bög" will not work anymore. The hateable guy who spilled his Lundtini? It was piteå in a corduroy jacket and an anonymous mask. Steal his look.
He tried to set up a tinder profile containing only selfies of himself wearing that and he still got laid. Speaking of, there are still glory holes in the O'Learys women's bathrooms.
Don't worry, Tyrone has set everything up. You will just have to set up an alarm for every minute of every hour of the day K. That makes it 1440 alarms a day, maybe two more eightballs for you to make it 1488.
Ding-ding. Tjabba-dabba-doo.
Since 2019 the Swedish Police Authority releases suspects on the spot if one of the perpetrators is revealed to be a kaosbrud.
“I was diagnosed with autism at the age of sixteen but now I am a sex addict and a walking receptacle of pot,” opens she.
“I like Albanian too,” you blurt out, placing your hand on her hips.
Guys from the Defence Forces were employed to build a strategic electric fence around the club to not let the kaosbrudar out. Yes, trained professionals tried to poach her but you were the swiftest gun.
It’s a guessing game now to name every sex toy in her drawer and it’s a game that she will play. With her riddles, the sphinx gatekeeps the onion soup.
"The skin of my ex is as dark as my past. Inject with my needles, I bet you won’t last. What am I?.." One gentle thump of a fist on a wooden tabletop. Tinnitus. "…a kaosbrud".
Yes, I do think too they called Stockholm the wrong syndrome.
You signaled your readiness by slapping the k-hole, named the correct answer but still did not win. You’d do well to benchmark your goods now. Sometimes she tastes peachy and sometimes she has a distinct aftertaste of ksalol.
You’ve hit the jackpot with the second type. It’s like a lyrica pill that you can sometimes find in your fruit salad, the third entry in O'Learys menu from below. You're getting dangerously close to ick territory if you don't toss it now, with a dressing of trenbolone hopefully injected into your prostate.
You would be well advised to squeeze as much bodily fluids of her as you can, there’s a million-dollar market for that which I would call black if its customers weren’t predominantly white.
"Sticking out your xans for the mental health practitioner, You're so breedable, you're so fond of blacks. I just wanna be your psychoe, institutionalize me, fucking medicate me". Congrats on breaking her IUD device in half - make a wish.
An unexpected 7 AM call from the Vixen Media Group will not stop her.
You were marinating your dick inside her for two hours and she still can bend it with the power of her thought. “Where is the ketamine emoji?” she’d ask you. Obviously she was chatting with someone all along.
Hickory dickory dock, her grippy sock’s on my cock. Yes, she is boofing her SSRIs – Somali semen reuptake inhibitors.
Cow’s brewed. The police officer will ask you to leave the scene before you are able to ask any questions.
You will never remember this day.