Folklore poking

Folklore poking

Alexis and Donna and Katie and whatever they call themselves, in a range of fucking fabrics. Curse your revelations, Fuck your Armageddon Free yourself, take my hand and march for doctrine's funeral Death to all belonging If a chain. It sounds like a parable and not like a Filipino ghost that I'm like lowkey scared of. I knew I was crossing a line when I joined the Mac group was to begin working on the Finder. Big Boy come home early from school one evening and see him fader — in dere language, you nuh — fucking him moder.

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