Had to let it know that I still had baller status. So when I was on the dance floor, busting my moves, I didn't mind the shorty with the tight, tight blue mini-skirt who was rubbing up on me and leading me on.
The hermit, as if wishing to answer to the confidence of his guest, threw back his cowl, and showed a round bullet head belonging to a man in the prime of life.
A greatsome reward is on offer in exchange for a name.
Having exhausted the sporting adventures of this terrestrial globe, he is now turning to those of the dim, dark and dubious regions of psychic research.
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