The indulgences of habit she would not resign, therefore held by the pleasures of the table; but the comforts of equable heat, which was particularly necessary, she denied herself much too long, and resisted warm clothing most determinately;...
Maybe two or three times a month we get a call from someone who says they've heard there's a secret subterranean city beneath Gay Street, that it's perfectly preserved with turn-of-the-century storefronts, that homeless people, drug dealers, and sundry gnomes live down there and drink splo and shoot dice, and that Metro Pulse should look into it.
Whenever I beep my wife's nose, she says meef!
meef!
Sketchers lookin' like Balenciaga / Thrift clothes lookin' like the Prada / Whole fit lit, it cost me nada
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DiQt
Free
★★★★★★★★★★
