The king of music comments
You can discuss here about the best singers of all time. Who must hold the title of the king?
Loading ...
Which TV series do you like most? Share your opinion here.
Which TV series do you like most? Share your opinion here.
When doorbells ring, what happened to Hannibal’s little body in the showers of the priests was in fact, criminal. He was so young….as sweet as a breath of fresh air. Hefty bishops entered the chamber of forsaken echoes, and Boris screamed as the barks became grunts of piggy passion fruit. The grossly obese gents demanded to be serviced with relish and a smile. The walls were thin in the police barracks as they hung the palsy in a rotating sex swing, His knees, heels and curling toes made these men explode.
There were scattered bursts of laughter present as the screaming handicapped begged for their lives to be spared. michael mcJackson said no to boys lives being spared from the realms of impending death. When the poison needles pierced the pink flesh, boys faded slowly as their eyes closed forever. They were later buried secretly in shallow graves.
In any case, Hannibal is also wise to say goodbye here and live his own life with his husband or transgender. Michael blasting on his stereo system.
The whole neighborhood thinks, “Oh gosh, a Michael fan with his woke rainbow shoes on!”
Boys are standing in line for his door.
Each with a jar of Vaseline in their hands, they politely ring Hannibal’s doorbell and say when the door opens, ‘Is it my turn now, Hannibal?’
When silence breaks the dawn, we can be rest assured that Hannibal Stanley popped another pus filled blood pimple. With suction lips, he pulls the white flesh to draw the venom out after a needle pierce through the disgusting skin. Those vacuum folds drain the bursting pimple, blood running down the raw chin. The tongue lapping up the fluid and juicy grease. Dongs pattering wet as they suddenly slop into the screaming mouth and down the sorest throats. Of course, the disgusting palsy man has finally realized that he will not be able to build up his tiny puppet dancer to new heights. Boys, now men continue selling their eye burning stories.
Kitty Cimarron: “Walk tall, walk proud, walk free”
Toe dangling tots
The lucky boy was the sole survivor
Dirt covered casket
A needle inside the pimple
Those curling toes bleed
Prize fighting handi
Blue ribbon, sweet pea
His dong exploded wet
Signal towards the disabled
Scooter riding grope
When boys circle around the bare ass priest
Out from the forest [ running nude ]
Walk tall, walk proud, walk free
Shallow grave honker, peeping out
When those pointed nibbles get red and sore
Kitty Cimarron and Hans Stanley
“Uninvited guest is coming in”
Broken inside
Uninvited guest
Only time will tell
Painful orgasm
Bouncy bellies, jackrabbit skull
Inhuman distrust
His eyelids were glued shut
Struggling with past abuse
Brutalizing memories
Shell of a man [ priest porker ]
And the slacks came down
Screaming for the loaded toad
Brain fog games
Tall cup of rancid urine
Lifted lip, frosted tongue
Dirty boys want men’s sausage
Time is on your side, padre
Pleasure palace, popping pimple
When the blood leaks from his stupid mouth
Kitty Cimarron and fat Hans Stanley
“Boys must line up against shower walls”
Forced inspections
Signs of torment
He faced the rolling eye
Cut the stinky cheese
Random rainbow
No clothing allowed
Military state
His pink flesh, mah drooling mouth
Father Jackson had bad breath
Screaming bodies, underground
The man behind the steel mask
He cried from the humiliation
The horny doc snapped on the latex
When silence breaks the dawn
Police barracks, unholy battery
Squeezing ball sacks, frantic cough
Soldiers ravish nude boys with forced orgasms
Chubby cold fingers of the aging priest
Tears dribbled down those flushed pink cheeks
Kitty Cimarron: “He crawled to the nude priest”
Inspecting slave bodies
His mouth, lifted up
His mouth, deformed
Men are the boy’s heroes
The stink of puppet blood
Funnel placed down the throat
Silent forest
Anal horizon
Pocket change
Domination shadows
Punished male tots must die
He crawled to the nude priest
Echoes from the secluded bunkers
On his raw knees, on the burning sand
Time is on your side…..yes it is.
Tongues probed as laughter rung hollow in the forest of nightmares. Soul beaten boys were forced to service several lonely priests in their secluded cabins, miles away from civilization. Haunted screams pierced the echoes of the mountains. When nude sweaty boys gathered on the hot rocks, cameras snapped as they splashed in the raging river. Men walked tall and cheered as the wet tots were rounded up for unspeakable pleasures of the goose pimpled flesh. When the wind cried, the birds often fell from the stormy skies. Many young turks were forced to the rancid dundee and swinging nut sacks of the hefty gents of spitting porky. The gut wrenching sobs made most priests turn to extreme violence. Weak boys were tossed around like rag dolls. When cow necks craned upwards, O mouth because the norm.
Afterwards, the bodies were piled high on truck beds like stacks of shaven beef.
This story looks a lot like the Epstein files, but hidden deep in the mountains. It could also be that those filthy criminals dress up as Bigfoot and bring many people and children there. Because after their priesthood was taken away, they continued in that way.
“No nasty lies will ever hide the truth”
The tart, lemon sucking cowardly Hannibal won’t show his ugly face. I win, I laugh, I celebrate, I sing. Prince continues with a posthumous legacy that is both unbeatable and timeless. “Purple Rain” continues to reign after several decades on top. It is a classic gemstone of rock, pop and vision. Prince opened the door for black artists, while michael mcJackson lied and cheated.
September rising, Prince has hit the top once again with his fabulous masterpiece, Purple Rain.
Did I hear that right * Cliff sings: move it your butt boy ??
Hannibal was to told to move his pecker, deep inside the crusty poo canal of the aging British pop kitty. Both men were caught doing the dirty, NUDE.
Hannibal He’s made a run for it again. He only recently discovered that Cliff Richard’s song “Move It” was many times better than all the MJ songs put together! He’s crying to his mother now!!!