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-=Dark_Angel=-
13-Mar-03, 08:41 PM
I'M SURE THIS MEANS SOMETHING.
Reply
<{Baba^Yaga}>
13-Mar-03, 08:42 PM
In terms of psychic warfare? that was Roman Polanski's Quaalude.
Never, cement shoes.love.love.love.love.love.farina.
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The day Pan out-played Apollo (Haiku) by Bachus
The musical palm
deserves to be his, because
he never gets laid.
Hooves, horns, and Pan-pipe.
King Midas shall judge this match.
He enjoys ass-ears.
send this poem to a friend
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Comments:
-=Dark_Angel=-
13-Mar-03, 08:41 PM
I'M SURE THIS MEANS SOMETHING.
Reply X
<{Baba^Yaga}>
13-Mar-03, 08:45 PM
-=Dark_Angel=-
13-Mar-03, 08:41 PM
I'M SURE THIS MEANS SOMETHING.
Reply
<{Baba^Yaga}>
13-Mar-03, 08:42 PM
In terms of psychic warfare? that was Roman Polanski's Quaalude.
Never, cement shoes.love.love.love.love.love.farina.
Reply
<{Baba^Yaga}>
13-Mar-03, 08:42 PM
In terms of psychic warfare? that was Roman Polanski's Quaalude.
Reply
-=Dark_Angel=-
13-Mar-03, 08:44 PM
OH
Reply X
<{Baba^Yaga}>
13-Mar-03, 08:46 PM
LOVE!
Reply
<brought to you by the special olympics badminton teams captain HUGO, {hugo waves at the camera while face slapping a slice of bologne and giggling madly [he has his raquet in his belt as if it were a pyrgayets sworde and his socks pulled up to the middle of his pock marked chubby little thighs] and oscar meyer weiner a kosher piece of meat, right Hugo? (hugo nods and proudly displays his raquet and bologne for the camera before breaking wind loudly with a kind eyed snort and chuckle... 3, 2,1, show timer