I called him a writing literary

selected, drunk guys, erotic, president, current affairs, hummus, get drunk and be somebody, company benefits, maturesex, lawyer resource, literary, mom fucking son., pissed at, audio, prayer, news, drunk pantie, arizona driving drunk law, christ, abovethe law, So fucking unhelpful.So she gets whatever the family feast is writing tonight…..and I don’t care what it is, she doesn’t like it. She turns up her nose, pokes it suspiciously with a fork a few times, then whines’ Errrrm, I don’t like this, writing it smells funny, I think it’s off, can you just do me a plate of chips? None of those arty-farty oven chips, mind you, I want proper saturated full-fat cardiac-arrest jobs, fried in whale-dip’. But don’t mind me, I’m not that hungry…….She can keep that up for hours. She can whinge and moan for England. writing Sits there like a deformed fat spider puffing away at her fags and dripping poison in whatever ear she can force into a corner. She’s hard of hearing, but won’t wear a hearing aid. She has a hide like a rhinoceros, totally oblivious to any hint or subtlety, the only way to get her attention is to kick her viciously up her fat arse, then shout very loudly in her wax-ridden ears, using language it’s impossible to misinterpret.‘Why
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I called him a cockbadger (local slang) and then explained my irrational fear of my parents lying to me about laws broken by their clients, my dad jokes about this then plays that literary Barbie Girl song on the stereo on repeat for 4 hours. I then chased the music literary playing ice cream truck.*cough* coat *cough* (Minty Hit, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 13:59) MILILF nuff said (sickboyturbo, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 17:26) Olive - a sour, rounded, hard little fruit, usually soused in gin literary .Where to start? Is it compulsory to hate your mother-in-law, some sort of hidden genetic subconscious thing which drives us to dream of throttling the bitch?Take my mother-in-law, the lovely Olive. (I wish someone would). She’s the most ignorant, useless, obnoxious, idle, loud-mouthed witch, but thankfully she lives 300 miles away so we don’t see her that often. But when she does come to visit, boy, does she get on my tits.‘What do you fancy for dinner, Olive?’‘Errrm anything, don’t you worry about me, I’ll just have what you’re having’I hate answers like that.
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