The king of music comments
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Which TV series do you like most? Share your opinion here.
Once the slacks go down past the chunky knees, the obese priests expose their pimpled cheeks of their round asses. Those plump hips pump the skulls of sweaty strings of hair. Boys choking, gagging on old dongs that fill their throats with powerful thrusts of dribbling seed. Shirts are expertly pulled over their necks as the heaving chests pound within the racing heartbeats. When the pupils are counted nude, men gather in the community showers, knees weakened by multiple male to male orgasms. Heads go up in extra wide O mouth.
Yes, Michael Jackson and Cliff Richard did the same thing in their tents and hotels; under a different name, they received gays who were also fans.For example, Hannibal is one of them!
Hannibal often loved getting nude inside of kitty’s tents. The stink of boy sweat has driven him wild with lustful ambition.
Damaged boys are often forced to fly the rainbow flag in gay parade celebrations. They are planning a massive Halloween flash mob across the cities of North America. Rotating hips, gay nude dancing and hoover pulling O mouth, directly pleasuring the randy priests. As flies with green eyes bite the moldy decaying flesh, the barrel chested men stand tall as screaming boys line up to get on their knobby little knees. The showers are steaming hot, burning the red skin to blistering pain. Again, kitty wants to become the appointed grand marshal, his white robe and pointed hood stained from the action of exploding sperm.
Straight men are angry that their sons are required to listen to michael mcJackson.
On the hot sandy beaches of randy Spain, kitty is the grand marshal of boy inspection. When bodies glisten with sun tan lotion, kitty offers his smooth palms to excite those screaming tots. The stink of rest area lavatories can definitely hide the action from the unaware pubic. Low and behold, the cowardly Hannibal appears with another priest, Father John McManus. Inside the dirty stalls, a hissing cockroach, the size of young groundhog. The musk of dampness fills the stale air with white, sticky spunk of young hunks that are willing to pleasure a series of curly toed men. Pork gets pounded in the echoes of the mausoleum. Hannibal and kitty continue the ravishing.
Red Lady, Why are there no straight flags? Why do we have to be converted to them by those rainbow flags??? Do they hope everyone becomes gay or something?
They want depopulation. When men and boys breed, there are no eggs inside the boy’s rectum or throat.
“Sick”
The fruit is jacked up, swinging above heads of the unholy priests and other boy loving men. Of course, we know that not all boys get chosen, get to be cut down. Eventually, some die, rot and become skeletons, still inside the rotating swings. Kitty loved seeing fresh pork hang next to the putrid stench. The endless screams and misery in the bunkers of the butcher shops. Men enter the showers, proud as peacawks, their lips licking off the juicy bodily fluids. In the echoes of death, laughter becomes the norm. Porky, pink skinned boys continue to beg to have their lives saved, claim they will do anything to pleasure these old giants. Mouths and rectums get filled with the creamy spunk. The bishops pumping their hips quickly as the flesh is slapped with beating palms. Fatty Hans squealed like a frightened hog.
Ugly, skinny male pupils usually die, not chosen, not loved.
It’s also weird why gays are gay and not just straight. There should actually be straight flags.
It is strange that gays exist like Kitty and Michael and Hanniball and his gay friends.
We even have a Prime Minister Rob in Holland who is gay and can only talk about the rainbow flag. Or he was dancing at a gay party again. He said recently that all gays should punch everyone in the face.
Vriendje van Hannibal zeker š¤£
The screaming boy bodies rotated in the reflection of the endless mirrors of rancid sins of the priestly fathers. As they entered the bunker, the papal giants know that fun is just around the twisty corners. The male tots of all ages, shapes and sizes hung from ceilings like colored lights.
Some of the bodies were certainly not white. Some priests smiled when they choose the greasy dark chicken meat. The tears were exactly the same flavor, despite the quality of the pimpled skin. As the bishop farted, we could see the pain in the pupil’s little blind eyes.
I recently read, or was it on Pow News, that a pHEdO Martijn existed in the Netherlands???????.is Hannibal a member of that club ? Wtf this world is very very Sick
That explains why Michael and Cliff like coming here to Netto the Netherlands. Sick political party here, man.?!
Hannibal is able to walk through the haunting burial grounds., searching for boy skeletons.
Deep into the forests of the sixties generation, we can go back to the scene of the crime, sixty or seventy years after. Kitty even remembers the pines that used to be planted along the path of ultimate destruction. In the clearing, he actually knows the name of a certain boy that fought him viciously. The old British singer tells of a fierce lad with the biggest dong he has ever seen. on a frightened male tot. When the hot boots crunch through the fallen leaves, darkness suddenly appears between the slowly moving clouds. A tear drops from Hannibal’s lazy little eye. Happiness is when the sins of the past is finally here again.
The fresh catch was stripped of both his dignity and foolish pride.
To the randy priest, bishop, clergy or school teacher, boy love is perfectly normal. They love seeing bare flesh, spinning in swings above their heads. To them, every night is the right time to pick the hanging fruit. When special boys are selected, men gather around the excitement of extreme violence. Boys often shed tears as they realize they are trapped into brutal sex and games.
Father Higgins takes little Davy’s little hand and guides him to experience the gayest action known to man. With shame of the violation still angering his tiny heart, Davy realizes that to stay alive, he must continue to pleasure several priests.
The stink of unholy love makes thousands of little eyes burn.
Even the Clintons try to keep their secret cult life hidden. But it has been secretly filmed that they also sacrifice children for their god or devil! The same guys who were also on Epstein Island
Just like the Church, Cliff Richard and Michael Jackson were members of it. The secret sekte club! They ate and drank children’s blood and flesh as if it were normal!?
The warm boy blood is said to keep kitty young like a vampire.
The secrets of illegal pleasure stays silent forever, especially if boys are eliminated by death afterwards. Sometimes, the bishops let the pupils live to grow up to become men like michael mcJackson. When bodies are stacked high on truck beds, the corpses are driven to select pits for random cremation. The sweet smell of burning human flesh within the smoky barbeque. Little Tommy, fat Hans and bratty Dirk are forced to perform for the cameras under the bright lights.
They get nude because Kitty is directing.
And Hannibal and his gay Hans think that’s normal?
With various nude boys roaming the streets of Romania and south east Asia, select priests and bishops lick their chops. Boy love is definitely normal to the supporters of such action. Hefty bodies are stripped like clams, then jacked up on rotating swings that spin around and around. Their gut wrenching voices cry out in embarrassing emotional pain, torture and shame. The odor of blood, sweat and tears.
Boys cried from the putrid stink of michael mcJackson and kitty, world’s apart. These two clowns truly do omit the odor of dirty diapers. The pupils gag as they continue to kneel, sniff and gobble down the old man’s smelly log.
Inside the casket at forest lawn, maggots breed inside the beaten skeleton.
It must have stank pretty badly there, yuck. MJ fans still love it and Hannibal is in the front row to get his dong taken by the priests.
Kitty certainly likes smelling other people’s turds, especially those of priests or young boys.
The randy pope was definitely satisfied by the direct pleasures of the kneeling pupils of harmony and love. With his slacks unbuckled, his bobbling head went back as he performed loc jaw O mouth. Dongs were drained freely. Boys leaned their backs against lavatory shower walls When the bone chilling screams pierced the endless echoes, the pope had new hope that his sexual dreams would finally come true. What a grand life he led.
That’s where it all started for Michael and Hannibal, like, “Look, if the Pope and his priests are allowed to do that with young boys, we are allowed to too.” MJ said, “It’s normal.”
The nude bishop lifted his head up to look into the crazed eyes of both kitty and Hannibal. Sniffing sausages, gobbling the spunk. When robes dropped, the screams continued.
And again the Pope was satisfied; the Holy Spirit fell from the sky onto Hannibal’s eye.
The electric eyes sees every little move we made. The nude bishop is on candid camera.
Blessed, Hannibal heads into his weekend to get a better chance from heaven to meet a man, preferably a priest and older than him.
The old bishop made his interest well known to the greedy Hannibal. He knows that fatty Hans was very young when he was first inspected by the old papal. The palsies freely offered their tight bodies to various lonely men for a small fee. In the isolation chambers, mounds of flesh entered the community showers.
Blood curdling screams within the echoes soon became the norm.
And so Hannibal also fell in love with gay artists like Cliff and Michael. Two transvestites.