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Old lurker... New poster!

I've stolen the wolfs watch at mass while shaking hands, stuck a spud in his car exhaust, went to his house and his a poo in the kettle before round housing his cubs to the jaw.
When it comes to business Im top of the pile. Principles of Insurance? I know them, Sales of Gods and Supply of Services Act? Ah yeah, Alan Sugars preference of adult film? Indeed!
 
Be honest... when you say spud, you mean your dick right? You shagged his car exhaust?

You make me sick.
 
Then what did I drag my worm ridden bum across?
 

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