Though nothing of the vault except the roof was visible from where I lay, and so I could not see these visitors, yet I heard every word spoken, and soon made out one voice as being Master Ratsey's.
I'll let a rookie march behind me with a loaded weapon once he's been blooded in combat, until then he stays in front where I can see which way he's pointing.
What kind of fuckery is this? / You made me miss the Slick Rick gig
Felix always attended Venus upon her little latrinal excursions, holding her, serving her, and making much of all she did. To undo her things, lift her skirts, to wait and watch the coming, to dip a lip or finger in the royal output
