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Princess Balestra

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Princess Balestra last won the day on November 22 2019

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About Princess Balestra

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  1. Problem we got with how bouncilicious balls danglin' out in the atmosphere gonna ball up on all their bounty in the fyooture is how nowan evah figured what might happen when a zillion an' one imbeciles showed up sumplace where once all were dreamin' the amoeboid dream. tbh, I got no idea what the world wants; I jus' wanna remain exotically bendy with access to touchpoints on all meaningful cavortin'. An' I say this with only minimal access to the powers of hoobris bcs I know plenty people wanna shoot each other in the frickin' tits, irrespective of howevah the ice caps be shimmyin'. All I know is, that selfie the Earth took back in the day got evrywan thinkin'. Beyond immediate demise c/o antsy neighbors to unforseen evisceration out in the void. Aw see, you got me all pessimistic here! I started out with a vision of bountilicious balls — but here I am, misconsoomin' my own metaphor the wrong way down! The hell is wrong with my stoopid ass?
  2. Gotta figure the ultimate predator movie experience is where you hit the back row with your sweetie an' the SCREEN gobbles your asses before you shared your first nachos. tbh creepy stuff ain't my areah. If'n I wantin' my evry follicle erected offa my flesh, gimme a TED talk 'bout static electricity any day.
  3. I remembah when remembah was remembah. It's like the certainty of eternity rolled out my way bcs I so lucky. Plus also, gotta figure how the iPod makes posible the advent of the sPelt. "Your wearable wants to feel your juice."
  4. On a point of ordah, natchrlly i gotta question the nature of inniness here. In my experience, "too much of a gentleman" don't always fit all the way down less'n I make with real hi octane bendin' — an' before you summon immodest images into view here, I talkin' 'bout foldin' stuff in half, securin' with duct tape, an' tryin' to offset the pain with an enthoosiastic demeanor. Same as sushi. See cos mosta that raw fish is flapped out double or triple, sealed up in all kindsa weirdly exotic skinny stuff, an' whenevah you ordah anythin' gets your tongue screamin' out like crazy, the guy spinnin' the nibblebles smiles an' says, YOU WANT MORE? (For hoomanitarian reasons, I jus' wanna say I ain't evah bent nowan's dick in half. My strategy here is to position myself slightly further away than usual without givin' off unintimate vibes.)
  5. Is fluffin' srsly an Olympic event? Hey, if all I gotta do to get sushi is bend ovah, I'm in.
  6. Back in the day, the Olympics featured sporty types combinin' athletic virtues an' tasty visyools on a NEKKID PROWESS ticket. So here is my Modern Pantie-Off-Thon challenge for Tokyo ... 1) Spectacular Yogah Floppin' Out — it is like weightliftin', but with no requirement for anythin' to be held aloft in an effortful way. 2) Cruisin' The Stores — it is like a marathon, only I makin' a beeline merely for cool stuff shows me off at my best. 3) All Nite Cocktails — las' one standin' gets their eyeballs revered by a minor deity. 4) Salad incineration — bcs it is a SKILL most people ain't GOT. 5) Horse Ridin' — the obvious choice for a Sagittarius jus' wants to straddle benevolent beasts with a view to rompin' off into the sunset. Tellya, I got Gold in my sights on that baby. Or Top Fluff, if'n they srs.
  7. Las' time I paid big cash for anythin' battery powered I had to ditch my heels bcs balance ishoos.
  8. I so love how the Whattys reward what is gowin' down up top cinematically. Like Tarantino said, "bash me out prone with a sledgehammer till John Travolta dances o'er my dream horizon like a quivering saint of filth." Yeah, so I took that quote to heart. An' I ain't looked back till mebbe it was time to switch ovah. As a yogah gal I can figure the 180 degree head rotation deal like in the Exorcist — but when I'm down undah, my inner romantic would rather cinemagoers got a loada my hair jus' playin' out all natchrl. O for finery of locks to be as Cthulhu's momentarily powerless tentacles thwapping in unison against virgin bedsheets ... Prolly I should start writin' for fortune cookies. All I know is, no myoosical movie evah gonna feature Moi center stage as Vocal Nirvana Gal bcs I the singin' equivalent of Godzilla rippin' your guts out with fuckin' fish hook.
  9. All I know is, as I writin' this out now ... Whatto has already taken his first footsteps into the bold noo decade. Same deal happens evry Monday, Toosday, Wednesday (etc) — but sumhow this moment feels extra speshly significant. It's like he is our own personal Herald Voyeur, travelin' on ahead to check out the excitin' noo terrain an' uncover secrets gonna empowah the entire planet. Jus' gotta avoid all the terrifyin' spidahs an' not fall down too flat thanks to the Hi Strength Ox Moonshine gowin' down as Sydney erupts in firework mayhem, I guess. *sigh* What a great place that Antipodean Horizon must be ... a Panorama Nouveau to shame the cuttin' edge visionaries of Pacific Time Silicon Valley into wettin' their pants till the juice drips offa their flip flops. But, hey — we all know what Christmas is about bcs it is Tradition Central. Bold noo decade packin' TWO ZEROES is the finest open book we had since the millennium. That is why I plan to enjoy musself later by behavin' abominably. Evry noo year we hurdle ovah the Reaper's scythe — an' don't look back. No ideah how we pull off this stunt while we still fartin' leftovahs outta our ears — but we universally gifted that way. Anyways, Happy Noo Year to yallz (plus also spouses, fam, hangers-on, pets & nano-sized aliens in the basement). Less'n anywan is spendin' the time kayakin' off the coast of Frisco, gotta figure Claude gonna be las' one here to leap heroically into the 2020s bcs Wooster is so Way Out West. But we all be there in the fyootyure's glorious smoochiehole sumtime tamara, comparin' dreams an' hopes an' aspirations like gnats in a cloud hoverin' o'er the head of a sleepin' genius with a view to coexistin' momentarily with the thought bubble happnin' in the same kinda area. Here is a time for the fizziest of champagne. Mebbe even juicy prunes on cocktail sticks. Oh yeah — speshly juicy prunes on cocktail sticks. I so love those babies!
  10. Beats Egyptian hierogliphs I guess ('part from the bunnies, which sound cute in any language). Thing is, I got Latvian on my Brain Linguistics Enhancement hit list for 2020. Gotta hope this will permit me to comment on pertinent stuff like RAGIN' BUSHFIRES without comin' over all unseemly.
  11. Gotta figure sum internet gooroo will dream up an easy-attach restraint bar to stop you slidin' off — same as they have on theme park rides. I dunno, sumthin' like a doorknob affair that slips onto the seat between your legs an' cups you safely in place if'n gravity takes ovah. Like phones, you could mebbe personalise these, with mebbe funny faces packin' hilarious protuberences, an' a simple mechanism could animate 'em like them dancin' cactus toys from way back. Why, these sound such fun, I would wanna see 'em enter the arena anyways. Glee Pee Your Fun Time Washroom Friend Now slacking off from your job doesn't have to mean immediate dismissal! Why fall when nature calls? Why not have a ball? Here's a Washroom friend who's always got your front. Even more fun on a regular non-sloping toilet! Improves pelvis health, cultivates healthy hormone release, and enhances vocalization — especially vowels.
  12. Mebbe ima kinda bored with this thread. For 2020 I would wanna get my lips round the MAN DANGLAH EFFECT. This don't mean I tryin' to dictate nuthin' here. For the right kinda solootion, ima down on my knees, for sure. Hey, if'n evrythin' swings my way, ima prolly flop down flat. Coincidence is smoochie. Life flows out on hoochie. Choice is blendyjuicy. Plus also, what is naht to love 'bout a brown-eyed gal? Deal is straight down the line on this baby imho. We downhome filth y'allz lost without, sweetie.
  13. Gotta wonder when cranky Millennial ol' Moi is gibberin' away over the heads of Generation Z, Generation Goober, an' Generation Frankly Frickin' Brain Dead, I'm gonna be too apathetic to care. "You call that laziness, you slackers? Back in the day, we knoo what troo disengagement looked like, tellya."
  14. This is how WIZARDS work. Only, typically they stay home, with their books an' their potions an' their spells, an' they don't bother nowan too much till'n evil comes knockin' an' they gotta go source a buncha lame dwarves an' trash a DRAGON. Gotta figure total powah works different rn. Here's lightnin' bolts fired from fingertips on a whim — bcs they own the hat & figure they can do anythin'. Like ... imaginin' they a dragon ...
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