The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind. I could tell it was Italian, you see.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 02-06-2024 14:38:48
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