He's just saying that for 'credibility' init.
ok
actually he said that in the 1980s before his prophecy came true
He's just saying that for 'credibility' init.
He's just saying that for 'credibility' init.
Dutch linesman killed: amateur matches cancelled as three youths charged
All amateur football in Holland has been cancelled this weekend following the death Richard Nieuwenhuizen, as three teenagers prepare to face manslaughter charges following Sunday's fatal attack on the volunteer linesman.
Prosecutors announced today that they are charging the teenagers with manslaughter, assault and public violence for alleged involvement in the vicious attack.
ok
actually he said that in the 1980s before his prophecy came true
He switched to some ancient steppe language as he ejaculated, blubbering and incoherent. Chun-li faked an orgasm, keeping her mind focused on an eighth-century lyric of sadness, and her face still as a lake in winter. Khünbish collapsed below the neck of the horse, where he clung now, like a forlorn circus rider, as the steppe cacophony segued seamlessly into the kind of trickling-stream-plus-birdsong music they play in mental hospitals to calm things down.”
The Nancy Huston one is actually slightly good writing.Reading these, reminded me of Gilver and Don
Bad Sex award 2012: who should win? - poll | Books | guardian.co.uk
I sensed her embarrassment, but even more I sensed the sweet, rich blood that was flowing out of her. It's okay, I whispered ... I was immersed in the slush of her moist meat ... Her body stiffened but I forced her legs apart and pushed my face into her groin. The smell was overpowering. It was as if her c*nt was a cellar filled with a heady store of wines and spirits, all emitting wafts of gaseous bouquets that recalled all the possible eruptions of the body. She smelt of farting and diarrhoea, shytting and pissing, burping, bile and vomit. I forced my tongue into this churning compost. Her blood was calling me. My tongue furiously worked the craters of her c*nt and I felt the blood, coarse and thick, trickle onto my lips and into my mouth and onto my tongue and down my gut and I forced my lips over her clit and sucked on it till I felt I was drawing her into my very body and the blood kept flowing onto my lips and into my mouth and my guts and I rubbed my face across the hair and skin and meat of her and as I licked at her c*nt and arse I opened my mouth wide and bit into her thigh and I did not hear her squeal for all I was aware of was the clean neat puncture and the blood that began to flow from it which fell onto my tongue and into my mouth and my gut, and her blood pumped through me and calmed the agonies in my belly and head and I knew I was alive; and laughing, drawing away from her I was aware that above me a body was heaving and I pushed my face back into her, all my fingers, my tongue, my chin, inside her: a bitter cool spray washed across my face. Her body convulsed, shuddered, trembled once more, and then fell to stillness. She had come.
outside of moist meat and the last sentence it's amusing in a good way.I still can't get over this one from 2011
Dead Europe by Christos Tsiolkas: Bad sex award extract | Books | guardian.co.uk
Moist meat
Miguel Calero dead at 41, fukked up
those epic pachuca teams with his bald head guarding the goal were great
Kaka is looking lively
Still, in my eyes, one of the most stylish players in the world. It's like this nikka glides on the grass