Tuesday, November 03, 2009
At the top of a secret mountain, Kevin’s thought daggers were bashing steadily, though slowly, through the madman's marble granite composite, knowing Cassandra could be dead, or worse, at the heart of this stonework cocoon. Only the Shifter himself aside the parties would ever know, the old man lamented.
His to be betrothed's father had shed any blandishments of civility upon immediately calling into question his part in the ensemble piece that had emerged.
So what can we say about kevin’s thought daggers that haven’t already been said themselves, folks, I mean, we know a crazy dramedy has landed in the corn field when van de kamps is selling for 5 bones a share and no one's sacrificing pigs in the street.
If you want to meet the right people you got to be the right people & then get in line for the 2 for 1 special at doodad’s, on Crenshaw, you remember ms. Crenshaw.
Abandoned ink café.