my favorite salad is dressing
ARCHIVIST: And? Oh, dressing alone?
MARTIN: (immediately) No. No, I don’t think that’s a salad.
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Singapore

seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from New Zealand

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from South Korea
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from United States
my favorite salad is dressing
ARCHIVIST: And? Oh, dressing alone?
MARTIN: (immediately) No. No, I don’t think that’s a salad.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
IS ONE OF THE CATS NAMED BREAKFAST?
MARTIN: Yeah.
‘;.^)
Man I don’t know how or why, but that's fucked up.
hey abot can u wish me a happy birthday 😳
ARCHIVIST: Uh… sure.
Happy birthday!
2 trucks
parked on the other side of the highway. Tires crunched on gravel. A flashlight beam probed the darkness, heading in our direction.
I could feel panic beginning to claw its way up my spine. But I held it at bay, breathing in softly through my nose and out through my mouth. I tightened my grip on the shovel and gripped it like a baseball bat. Lorraine leaned on me, sweaty and limp, her slack fingers dig into my forearm with solemn insistence. I had to hold it together.
The beam swung across us, cutting through the dark like a knife through flesh. The light lanced right through us, then just as quickly, was gone. The rumble of the trucks faded into the distance.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You're walking in the woods. There's no one around and your phone is dead. Out of the corner of your eye you spot him:
Russell Whiteley.
He’s there. You’ve seen him before, right? He’s there. You see him in the distance. Watch as he collects up teeth after bar fights, arranges them on the countertop in meticulous fashion, like a grotesque mosaic. He smiles. It’s not a nice smile, but you can’t look away.
Russell Whiteley is a big man. He must be almost six foot six and built like a barge. His thick forearms and large hands look like they’re made to grab. They probably are. He’s got a face that’s had a good few winters, the sort of face that looks like it’s been left out in the rain. His hair is combed back tight and straight, and he wears a fur coat and leather gloves. You’ve seen him before, right? He’s always around.
36 chicken
.
ARCHIVIST: Uh… yes.
favorite fruit? (person) (high schooler) (bestie)
uhh danny automatic? ever heard of her? she’s a super cool and famous artist and my very good buddy.