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Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by Pascalblinks: 12:21pm On May 17, 2017 |
CHRONICLES OF A RUNS GIRL PART 1 . Running girl I have learnt many things in life and one of them is that you cannot run for your life in high heel shoes. As I was running down the slope of Falomo Bridge, at some time past 4 am, I was actually praying for the heels of my Dorothy Perkins shoes to break because I did not dare to stop to take them off. I was no longer aware of Mama running behind me. I couldn’t hear her footsteps but I wasn’t stopping to check on her; it was well and truly an every-chick-for- herself kind of situation. And besides, we have always told her to lose weight. Maybe now, if we make it out of this alive, she would finally learn the folly of embracing her orobo title. At the bottom of the bridge, on the Ikoyi side, I ran into the remnants of a police check point. The officers were drinking what I can only assume to be paraga, and counting the days take. If I was shocked to happen on them at four in the morning, they were equally startled to see a yellow girl in a cream low-cut chiffon dress running at them. They scattered away from my path and would have let me continue if at that point Mama had not called out to me and finally break my get-away. The policemen regained their composure and immediately proceeded to arrest us, pointing their guns and shouting at us to tell them who we were. I was out of breath, Mama even more so. The officers waited while their paraga woman opined that we must be ashewos and they agreed, without relenting their hold on their weapons. As I was contemplating whether it was wise to tell them from what we had fled, Mama, ever the loud mouth, filled them in with every ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ of her thick Yoruba accent. “Ritual killer!” she shouted. “He is there on the bridge. He stopped to piss, that is how we escaped. He didn’t know I speak Yoruba. He was telling his friend on the phone that he has found two girls for the ritual!” Indeed, she was right. The boy had picked us up at the gate of Shoprite and taken us to his hotel room at the Four Points. He spoke funeh and ordered room service for us. Mama had asked for big Stout and assorted meat pepper soup, which the kitchen didn’t have, and I had accepted his offer to share a bottle of wine with him. He had been gentle and nice, and he came across as every bit the mugun. Mama had been first to start touching him up but he had shyly reclined from her fat arms and in due course started talking to me instead. He wanted to know what I did for a living. Somebody who had picked me off the road at past midnight wanted to know what I did for a living. I told him I was a student, which was not a lie, and he wanted to know why I had decided to study mass-com, which I wasn’t studying. He talked at length about his life in London and how he was only in Nigeria for a UN contract. I chopped, Mama chopped. She even sent me a BB message when he was asking how many we were in my family. In her message she asked me to let the boy do without condom while she pretended to be asleep. She said that that would make the mugun fall in love. Mama’s over zealousness has rendered her advices and opinions irrelevant, so I wasn’t even upset at her stupidity. No long thing, Mama soon covered her bulky body with the duvet and pretended to be asleep and the London boy finally approached me. He asked that I follow him into the bathroom and I, playing the part, asked him why. We bleeped right there on the bed – with a condom – and Mama did not once move even when I pinched her buttom. I let him hold me as he fell asleep and I must have fallen asleep as well because his phone woke us up. He took the call in the bathroom and Mama pretended to wake up. When he returned he looked upset. He explained that he had to fly to Abuja on the first flight out of Lagos and asked where we lived and if he could drop us off. I sensed Mama about to ask him for money so I quickly told him he could get us a cab to Ikoyi. He refused to let us take a cab at that time of the morning; he was going to drop us so he could know where I stayed – so he could come see me when he returned later in the night. He then asked if I could come with him to Abuja. It was a business meeting, he said, it would take all of two hours then we would catch the last flight to Lagos. Flights cost around thirty k. If he was willing to pay that much just for me to follow him to Abuja and back, how much would I end up fleecing out of him? It was on the way to Ikoyi that he called up his friend and started talking in near whispers in Yoruba. Both Mama and I speak fluent Yoruba; we grew up in Lagos, after all. When he pulled over on the deserted bridge and told us he had to pee, no one begged us to jump out of his car and run. I have never run so fast in my life. The policemen listened to our story as told by Mama and asked us if we wanted to come to the station to make a statement. “He is on the bridge!” Mama shouted at them. “You can still catch him!” I was thinking the same. One of the officers explained their position: “See ehn, just go and do thanksgiving that he did not succeed. By now he would have run away. How do we know where to catch him?” Mama pointed out that we could take them to his hotel room but the same officer explained that “hotel people don’t like that kind of trouble. They won’t even let us see the man. Just go home and you too, stop doing ashara.” We stayed with the policemen, partly out of having been placed under arrest and partly out of not wanting to be alone, and we listened to them tell stories of girls who had barely escaped ritual killers, just like we had. When they were ready to leave we realised we were also free to go. We begged them to drop us home and, surprisingly, they obliged. When we got to the boys’ quarters on Peeple Road that we share with four other girls, there was no light. Clara, whose real name is Nkem, opened the door for us because they had locked the padlocks from inside. “From where you ashewos dey come from this night?” she asked and thus unleashed Mama’s impatience to narrate our ordeal all over again. Clara woke Toyin, Toyin woke Beatrice, Beatrice woke Antina who woke two other girls I didn’t know and who had taken my spot and Mama’s spot on the mattress. Clara lit a kerosene lamp and the girls listened in silence as Mama embellished the story with magic rings and hidden charms. At the end of her tale the girls exchanged looks then burst out into laughter. I was trying to see the humour when one of the strangers explained it to me. It wasn’t a new thing; in fact, many sharp girls had fallen for the same trick. The boy wasn’t a ritual anything; he simply didn’t want to pay us and he tricked us into running away. The girl, whose name turned out to be Kenny, assured us that if we went back to the hotel we would be told that the occupant had checked out, probably on his way to Abuja as he claimed. To say I was pained is an understatement. But Mama preferred her own interpretation and hung on to the ritual story, no doubt, to be repeated to many a girl in the days to come. I only wished that she would leave my name out of it. I was still smarting from being played so deftly when Kenny asked if we had checked our bags. Mama asked why, but I had clocked. I opened my bag up to the glow of the lantern and searched frantically. I emptied the contents of the bag onto the floor and searched the inner pockets. My money was gone. That morning, as I lay on the crowded mattress, seething with anger and loathing the alarm that would soon go off to wake me up to get ready and go to school, I prayed to God to let me see that boy again. I didn’t tell God what I planned to do with him when I saw him. My name is Amaka, by the way. But people call me Juliet. . click on the link below to continue reading http://naijanoisemakers.com.ng/2017/05/12/chronicles-runs-girl-part-1/ |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by Pascalblinks: 7:57am On Aug 29, 2017 |
EATING THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART 1
. Jide Babalola was having a bad day.What worried him was not the fact that he seemed to be having a progressively bad day every day for the past three months. He was concerned because he was beginning to get used to it. And that was not a good thing.The kitchen of the Babalola household was redolent with the smell of something fried and spicy, but the ambience was ruined by the emotions running riot in the fragrant space. A plate on the counter washeaped with an appetising load of golden toast and fried eggs, a cup of coffee steaming beside it. As mouth-watering as the food looked, it was the object of dispute that morning. Jide stood over the meal, arms crossed as he faced his wife, who sat on the other side of the counter, pretending to be busy.“Patricia.” He said softly. His wife ignored him, and concentrated on furiously tapping the keys of the laptop in front of her. Early on in their marriage, whenever hecalled her full name like that, she would give him her full attention, because it usually meant he was in a serious mood. “Patricia, can you at least respond when I call you?”She stopped typing and looked up at him over the edge of the laptop. Her eyes were smouldering with anger; if looks could kill, he would have been vaporized by her gaze.“Am I deaf or are you blind?” she retorted. “You’re standing no farther than three feet away from me in this small kitchen and you want a formal acknowledgment to show I can hear you?”Jide clenched his jaw. “Is it a crime to ask for simple courtesy?”She glared at him for a moment longer, then tapped a few buttons on her laptop and closed it gently. When she faced him, arms folded on top of the laptop, insinceresmile on her face, he sighed inwardly. Her attitude was about to get worse.“Yes, lord and Master.” Patricia jeered. “Your servant is listening, please speak.”Jide sighed, and then chose to ignore the sarcasm in her voice. “Like I said, I’m running late so I won’t be able to eat this morning. I understand why that would upset you.”Patricia laughed. There was no humour in the sound. “Oh no, i don’t think you understand at all. But you will. Very soon.”“And what does that mean? Is that a threat? I’m sick and tired of all this, woman. Every day it’s one quarrel or another.”“Yes it seems that way, doesn’t it?” Patricia cut in. “Let me see, yesterday you were angry because I didn’t make breakfast for you, right? I apologized and explained I had a work deadline to meet but you stalked out. Today I wake up early to fry you eggs and now you’re saying…”“That’s why I am apologizing!” Jide yelled.Patricia raised a brow and allowed his shout to fade off before she clapped her hands slowly. “By shouting, right? You have a funny way of apologizing o…”Fifteen minutes later, Jide’s Sienna pulled out angrily from his compound. Setheing at the memory of his conversation with hiswife, he ignored the greeting of his securityguard and sped out of the estate where they lived, almost brushing a yellow tricycle into a gutter. He ignored the driver’s yell, increasing his speed as he took out his annoyance on the road, leaning on his car horn and yelling curses at any driver that dared to be slow.He knew it was just transferred aggression, but he couldn’t help himself. Despite all the self- help books he had bought and counselling documents he hadread online, his marriage seemed to be growing more strained by the day. He and Patricia had only been married less than two years and although he had been advised the point they were in would be the most stressful, he couldn’t imagine things getting any worse than they alreadywere.When Jide Babalola pulled up at the commercial law chambers where he worked as a brand communication manager, he forced himself to calm down before he left his car. He looked at his wristwatch and frowned as he realized he had actually reached work too early. His conscience pricked him as he rememberedthe things he had said to his wife in anger because he thought he was late, but he knew when he returned from work, the argument would continue if he dared to bring it up. He sighed and flipped down the mirror above his head so he could adjust his tie before he took the elevator tothe floor where his office was. He knew he looked good; the confidence of his long-legged stride was somtheing he had used years to cultivate. It was part of his job to project that corporate look and the admiring looks he received as he made hisway to his office attested to the fact.But Jide knew looks weren’t the most important thing. Peace of mind was. He greeted his secretary and breezed into his office and his practised smile faded as he settled behind his desk and sighed. He sincerely wished he could turn back the hands of time to this morning. If he hadn’t misread the time, he might have been able to eat a little of the breakfast Patricia had made for him…He frowned as his office door opened, then whipped up his professional smile a she recognized the person who had barged into his office. It was his colleague,Anita Bankole. Her tight dress stopped justabove the knee, sheathing her curves, the red colour the exact same shade as the lipstick heavily coating her mouth. He winced internally as he wondered if there was anything subtle about Anita. She was the personification of in-your-face attitude and her habit of bulldozing her way into his office without knocking was annoying.Jide was careful to keep his expression pleasant, however. She was one step above him on the corporate ladder; it wouldn’t be wise to show his displeasure.“Jide, my dear!” she squealed, walking over to him, her high heeled shoes clicking on the polished floor as she came around the side of his office table. He started to stand up, but she waved him back into his seat.“Good morning, Anita… oooof!”His greeting was cut short as she sat on him without warning and pressed her lips against his.And that literally, was how the first source of temptation fell into Jide Babalola’s lap….. Jolayemi has been unemployed since 3 years that he finished service and he is already twenty-five years of age…. He was walking down the road when he saw a signboard with vacancy written on it….he smiled buh it was short lived when he saw the condition attached…. 15 years of experience,abeg how old am I,he said aloud before walking away having one destination in mind….third mainland bridge . click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2017/08/12/eating-forbidden-fruit-part-1/ |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by Pascalblinks: 7:45am On Sep 01, 2017 |
ADEBIMPE THE FACEBOOK GIRL PART 1
(S*x, Hatred, Revenge, Love, Betrayed)
(Completed)
. Early february. I met adebimpe on facebook as a mutual friend to one of my friends. One thing led to another, we started chatting on BBM and early march, we started E- dating. 3weeks ago, we discussed on how we will see facially and she suggested to travel down to meet me in akure if only I can send T.fare. Adebimpe is a student of uniport so she fully based in PHC. I was so happy that I started day dreaming how the visitation will look like, the romance, fun, love-making etc. . On the 14th of april, I sent 10k into her account as Tfare. She called me to tell me she got the money. And the travelling preparation began. The D-day came. I have cleaned up my room, bought foodstuffs, bought a new pack of CD., wen she dropped at akure garage, I told her to pick a bike to my house address which she did, she got to my house at around 5pm. I ushered her in, gave her soft drinks and we were chating. Wen it was 6pm, she shocked me by telling me she has a cousin here in akure and that’s where she will be staying throughout her 3days of stay and dat I shd visit her at her cousin’s place the following day. I was so sad but I didn’t show it, I faked a smile and walk her off to take bike. I come dey reason am say “se na like dis my 10k go waste?”. The next day, I didn’t go to visit her and I lied that I was sick with the mindset that she will come to my place instead. But na lie, all she could do was to call me and ask after my health. That nite, I couldn’t sleep. I was just wondering how silly I am. I just put my fone in silence and forcefully slept off. As I woke up around 6am in the morning, I picked my fone and I saw a text from adebimpe. Which says “baby u knw I will be leaving today, wat time should I come to visit u so as to get my return Tfare”. Chaiii, na so my head spark . click on the link below to continue reading http://naijanoisemakers.com/2017/02/02/adebimpe-facebook-girl-part-1/ |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by Pascalblinks: 3:02pm On Sep 07, 2017 |
HOW I CHERISHED MY SISTER PART 1
.
IF YOU WANT TO THREAD THE PATH
OF REVENGE, YOU MUST DIG TWO
GRAVES – Some wise guy or something,
I’m not good with their names I just take
their words to mind.
A professional “do it all” consultant.
From finding missing persons or object
to high profile assassination; I’m the guy
to call. Been in the business for a while,
so on my worst days I’m am considered
an experienced professional and on my
best days I am a bleeding expert.
My name is Kunle Smith and as I lie
down here in a pool of my own blood
waiting for death’s cold embrace, I
cannot help but ask the question : HOW
THE Bleep DID IT COME TO THIS.
To answer my question I thought back
to when it all started to go wrong… The
very beginning : Apologies in advance
for the gritty nature of what I am about
to tell you. Some of us had it rough in
the origin department…
It’s a Cinderella story really, I was the
unplanned fifth of five boys left to fend
for myself after my mom died giving
birth to number six, the only girl, Vera.
The only good thing I had, brothers had
all gone off and wound up dead or in jail
where they wound up dead anyway and
my father buries himself deep in liquor
ever since my mum died, hardly gives us
the time of day. “I’m hungry!” Vera would
yell when she couldn’t hold it in
anymore. My father would throw an
empty bottle at her as he growled his
usual response “be glad I give you a
pilow to sleep and a roof over your head,
you want something to eat, work it out
for yourself.” crying she would beg to go
out with me and I would take her. She
was special, did all I could to protect her,
but really she was the one always taking
care of me. Because when she started to
put on her lonely lost child act in the
center of a town the attention of all the
bleeding hearts in the town focuses on
her and while they were busy trying to
comfort her, I would slowly creep behind
them, help myself to all the fancibles and
valuables in their pockets and be gone
before they realise it. We were happy
until one faithful day…. We had a great
run, plenty of loose wallets in heaping
pile, we were planning on how to go
about our spending. “Let’s get ice
cream” Vera was saying, when they
showed up. About six guys none of them
was over twenty by the looks of them
but they were all bigger than me. ‘good
idea little Dam’ said one of them, “after
that we can go to Freddie’s and get us
each a girl for the night” added the one
who struck me as the leader. With anger
I stepped in front of them protectively
standing over Vera and our money and
said “stand back, our hard work, our
money” the leader replied “but it’s on our
turf so that makes it our money you are
either going to hand it over or get
bloodied, you and your pretty little Dam
sister, your choice” he laughed. ” Stay
away from us” I warned. He came
forward eerily looming over, he bent low
his face inches from mine and with a
suffocating foul breath said “Who’s
gonna make me” and all of a sudden
they descended on me with punches,
sticks, and wait was that a hammer? Oh
OK it was a big fist, felt like a hammer
though. It was hell I have never
experienced such physical pain in my life
before. With spared glance I saw Vera
throwing rocks at them screaming “leave
my brother alone” I wanted to scream,
tell her to run but my voice wasn’t
working. Then one of Them walked over
to her and tried to grab her but she
wouldn’t let him. She was squirming
under his loose grip I was screaming
“vera no, leave her alone!” forcefully
Vera managed to break herself free from
her attacker. she had used her legs to
push as hard as she could against the
guy, it’s resulting force propelled her
forward right into the main road. And
then I HEARD: PAAAAAAANM
PAAAAAAANM, it was getting dark so no
one really saw it coming, no one heard it
blew it’s trumpet, not until it was too
late. VERAAAAAA! I screamed with all
my strength. It was a freaking horror
show me on my knees unable to move,
couldn’t stand, couldn’t run, Vera was
screaming as the truck hit and then ran
over her, I was helpless wishing for it all
to stop but it didn’t, almost immediately
after everything was quiet. Our attackers
fled, the driver fled too he had been
driving Without headlights that’s why I
had not seen him in time. The truck had
crushed her thoroughly scattering Vera’s
body parts all over the road. With an
overwhelming, an immeasurable and an
unimaginable grief in my heart, a
realisation came to me: this world is a
cruel world, only the wicked thrive. And
vera was an angel the world was not
meant for her let her go back to heaven
that’s were she belongs with angels like
her. “goodbye Vera watch over me, they
didn’t kill you but they are the reason
you are dead and thats the same thing
to me, watch as I bring down hell upon
those that brought you this gruesome
fate”…. I vowed.
……After that horrible incident, to become
stronger, I joined gangs, pushed drugs,
abused drugs, engage in Street fights,
gang wars, pimped girls over the years,
A bloody waste of time if you ask me.
For none of it made me strong the way I
wanted to be. It was when I got arrested
and was sent to prison, that I found the
kind of strength I was looking for.
Warmed my way to the hearts of the
inmates quickly enough. it was after I
told my story and expressed my
determination for revenge that one of the
prison bosses took me in, thought me
everything I need to know. Trained me in
combat and gun battle, thought me the
best revenge path to take. After serving
four years of prison time I was released
three years ahead of schedule for good
conduct, I wasted no time in plotting my
revenge course, using the connection
Don piccolo (my prison boss) gave me,
finding my first target wasn’t hard: The
Driver. I traced him to his home town,
where he was a mechanic. Immediately I
saw him, eight years of anger welled up
inside of me. I walked up to him and
asked “do you know me”. He gave me a
once over look and said “no can I help
you with anything?” “you don’t
remember me” I asked again. He
stopped what he was doing and looked
at me then asked “Who are you”. “Do
you know vera?” I answered his question
with mine. “No and I would like you to
leave my property, I am not comfortable
with you on it”, he replied as he looked
up into my eyes and took a step back.
Guessing he must have seen it, the
murderous intent in my eyes. Before he
could speak I asked him “do you
remember the little girl you crushed to
pieces eight years ago with that truck”
pointing to the last truck at the roll of
vehicles on the left. His eyes widened as
he remembered, he raised his left hand
that held a huge metal spanner and tried
to hit me with it but I was quick, I
stepped back thrusting forward I jabbed
him on the jaw, he staggered back.
seeing that he couldn’t fight me he ran
back so fast inside his shop and locked
the wooden gates, I could hear his
footsteps retreating deeper inside.
something shiny caught my eyes. The
fool had left the key to the truck he was
repairing on the ground I picked it up
and climed in, then started it, and drove
it straight through the gate, as the gate
shattered he came into view, his back
against the wall, his chest heaving so
high I thought his heart was gonna bust
out, his eyes as wide as they could go.
With a tinge of satisfaction and a small
smile on my lips because I liked the fear
that resonated from him, it was the
same fear that vera felt before dying, I
drove the vehicle straight at him
crushing him against the wall behind
him, I came out of the truck, went out to
pick surrounding flowers. Wasn’t really
comfortable with it, I didn’t want to leave
any trail for the police to track, but I
believed it was the right thing to do. The
Don had said that It’s meant to be like a
sense of knowing for Vera that her killers
hadn’t gone unpunished. plus by the
time the police caught up, i would have
been done with my vengeance mission,
dissappeard and started a new life.
Placing the flowers on the dead driver I
muttered ‘for Vera’. . click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2017/08/14/cherished-sister-part-1/ |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by Pascalblinks: 9:42am On Sep 08, 2017 |
BIRTHDAY S£X PART 1
(Completed)
. It was my 21st birthday and I was on my way to see my girlfriend in school. She stayed off campus in a 3 bedroom flat which she shared with two of her friends, Tolu and Tochi. Tolu was short, dark skinned, attractive, Tochi however was a bit taller and light skinned, but still reasonably attractive. My girl’s bestfriend however was Ife, who was in the same department as her and whose best feature (in my humble opinion) was her big br**sts. Apparently the four of them were taking me out for a meal and drinks that night. I arrived at their house and rang the doorbell, Tolu answered it, wearing a dressing-gown, obviously still in the process of getting ready to go out, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, wished me happy birthday and ushered me into the house. I asked where my girl was and she replied that she was in her bedroom, but didn’t want me to come in just yet, as she had a surprise for me. I went to sit down on the couch, but Tolu quickly stopped me, and pointed me towards a chair placed in the middle of the room, as apparently I had to be centre of attention in the middle of the room. I didn’t see the point in arguing so I took the chair. But as soon as I sat down, I felt my arms being pulled back behind the chair and heard a click and I could feel my hands were restrained. I looked behind me and saw that my hands had been handcuffed behind the chair. I turned my head back around to protest and saw Tochi and Ife were now standing next to Tolu, both also wearing dressing-gowns. “What do you think you’re playing at?” I said. “There’s been a slight change in plan” Tolu informed me. “We’ve decided not to take you out after all, Instead we’re all going to have a cosy night in.” “Why the handcuffs? And where is Moji?” I demanded. (Moji being my girlfriend) “Well, as we’re not going out we had to think of a way to treat you, as it’s still your birthday after all, and Moji kindly agreed to let us have some fun with you, but we didn’t want you running away, getting impatient or generally doing anything we don’t want you to, so we’ve had to handcuff you to the chair.” Tochi enlightened me. “And to stop your babe from interfering, unfortunately we’ve had to handcuff her to her bed, but don’t worry, she’s fine, and you’ll get to see her later. But for now, sit back, do as you’re told and most importantly enjoy yourself!” Ife Said. . With that the three girls undid the ties at the front of their dressing-gowns and to my amazement, one at a time, took them off. Tochi was the first to slip out of hers, revealing herself to be wearing just a pink bra and matching thong and then doing a little twirl to make sure I’d got a good view. Tolu took hers off next, to reveal a black push-up bra that gave her a nice cleavage and matching tie-side briefs, she also gave a little twirl to give me a good view. Finally Ife took her dressing-gown off, revealing a white bra that was struggling to contain her big br**sts and matching underwear that was revealed to be a G-string upon her completing a twirl. I couldn’t believe what was happening, Moji’s hot friends were in just their underwear in front of me, apparently ready to give me a good night, something I was more than willing to accept, even if it wasn’t being forced upon me via handcuffs, after all this was already turning out better than my wildest dreams! . click on the link below to continue reading www.naijanoisemakers.com/2016/09/27/birthday-sx-part-1/ |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 8:17am On Sep 18, 2017 |
OK na |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 11:57am On Sep 19, 2017 |
Lovely |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 10:45am On Sep 23, 2017 |
OK, I will |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 1:42pm On Jan 06, 2018 |
awesome |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 12:39pm On Jan 07, 2018 |
wonderful |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 8:19pm On Jan 08, 2018 |
ok na |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 8:33am On Jan 10, 2018 |
loving it |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 4:49pm On Jan 12, 2018 |
. |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by blinksblinks: 5:42am On Jan 20, 2018 |
. |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by blinksblinks: 10:19am On Feb 22, 2018 |
.. |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by blinksblinks: 10:20am On Feb 22, 2018 |
. |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by blinksblinks: 11:02pm On Feb 23, 2018 |
,, |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by blinksblinks: 11:08am On Feb 24, 2018 |
* |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 12:39am On Feb 26, 2018 |
-= |
Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 10:48pm On Mar 02, 2018 |
cs |
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Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by BlinksBlinkd: 3:32pm On Mar 09, 2018 |
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Re: Chronicles Of A Runs Girl by blinksblinkz: 5:40pm On Mar 14, 2018 |
c |
Lady Murdered By Her Lover For Cutting His Private Part(graphic) / “stop Eyeing Apples When You Can Only Afford Orange“ - Lady Lashes Out At Men / David Beckham Dresses So Well
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