Saturday

did

Did thy forget do the I? was wench seeming raked its fateau of folded buttocks meeting end of encounter~ ed knight. gallop gallopgallop. Mister Jill was seizure to her dusk. Buttter marked with wave froughts to breeze out. Really/ yes, uhmm twas like so. its cursed malt fetter to her curried flavour. feeted by any two by four.



welcome back Mona. wrapped round her culvert head. galvanzied by scanning days

so over here we go not there after there here to visit~