Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. “Uh, can you get me a soda or something?” She said, shielding her exposed teeth with her hand. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi4xMC4yMDEgLSAyNy0wNi0yMDI0IDIxOjMzOjUzIC0gMjEwMTg2ODQwOQ==
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