My anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, hun
I got a big, fat ass.
I’m obsessed. Not even sorry
It’s a song sampling BBGB and yes.
I’m wearing stockings.
The power of the dead is that we think they see us all the time. The dead have a presence. Is there a level of energy composed solely of the dead? They are also in the ground, of course, asleep and crumbling. Perhaps we are what they dream.
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