please i will be waiting for that golden gift!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
number nine el brujo!!!!! LOLOLOLOLOL bonny cepeda !!!!!! el chivo!!!!!

campesina by los kenton!!!! yeeehaaaa

It's been done as we "speak"........haste una salsita de Bonny de voy a mandar!.

You have to do 3 things for me, though:......

1- Pour yourself a class of cheap wine, perhaps Midnight Train,
2- Raise the glass up in the air,
3- Make a toast saying: "Gladiatorcito, aunque te guindate, rest in peace".

JAJAJAJAJAJAJA.

Dizque "FARTACUS"........JAJAJAJAJAJA........le debes un perdon a los "vientos jediondos". JAJAJAJAJAJAJA.

Y con que se come esa vaina?.......

Y con que se bebe esa porqueria?........con Mamajuana?. JAJAJAJAJA.

ave maria purisima!!!!!!!!! just to utter that name outta my mouth would cast an omen upon my soul!!!! jesu santisimo!!!!!!!

yeah, disgusting, right?.

Do you know I didn't even know who Gladiatorcita was until she started to "attack" me.......only because I was being a bad boy towards one of the POTROS?.

She came to that person's, wink wink, defense after I swept the floor with her.....all of a sudden, a new member was born......and came out ONLY to defend that particular POTRO.......uuuuummmmmm. JAJAJAJA.

Ohhh wellllll....the more haters I have, the more fun for me.

Me los bebo a to' como agua!. JAJAJAJAJA.

It’s a fool-proof escape plan.

“Modern life is often a mechanical oppression and liquor is the only mechanical relief.”

—Ernest Hemingway



Your life is a prison. You, sir, live in a cage.

Hold on, you say. I love my life. I have a swell time! I wouldn’t trade it for anything!

Well, sure. I’m not saying it’s not a gilded cage with amenities galore, and I’m certain you’ve learned to play all sorts of delightful tunes when you artfully rattle the bars.

What I am saying is you are trapped in a prison of conformity and routine: you must go to work, you must pay your bills, you must feed your pets, you must be at certain places at certain times and if you aren’t then you’re going to have to find a new cage to live in.

The first thing getting drunk does is make you aware that you are in a cage. Fuck that job, you’ll think. It’s a fucking drag. And fuck going to your in-laws’ for Christmas, like you do every goddamn year. And you sure as hell don’t want to go to church tomorrow. Suddenly you can see the bars, and I don’t mean the ones you’re drinking in.

The second thing it does is make you forget the cage exists. You get so wrapped up in the good times everything else seems a distant blur, a vague childhood memory where nothing much happened. Drink enough and you’ll have a hard time telling the cab driver on which street your cage is situated. Whoever said alcohol won’t drown your worries didn’t fill up the bathtub with enough booze.

Of course, employing alcohol to escape reality is vilified these days. Somehow it’s a terrible thing. The bars of the cage are there to protect you, they’ll tell you. What they don’t understand is that the thing you’re trying most to escape is right there in the cage with you. Namely, you.

Hey GrandpaTROLL, where have you been?..........Mira missed your Blabbings. JAJAJAJA.

Goulet, since you don't want to "see" MOST here don't read your posts, I have an advice for you:

Don't post your "jokes" all at ounce..........one short paragraph will be fine.........

Why?......because by the second paragrap, MOST here are bored out of their minds!.

What is it that you are trying to do, make us "hit the bottle"?.

JAJAJAJAJA.

compai pero k mezcla!!!! yuck!!!!!

all i could ever wonder is what type of apparal she would wear.