I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me
From our achievements, though perform'd at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. So oft it chances in particular men That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, As in their birth,- wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin,- By the
用户评论
风雪不阻行
2024-10-09 05:35
精神横国人
2024-10-09 05:34
严谨菌二
2024-10-09 01:35
手榴蛋清
2024-10-09 04:39
准注销
2024-10-09 10:06