He has his top leftovers from before the hate. Rat nibbled tissue haphazardly piled into plastic tubs in some damp storage room in hopes that Jeremy Tok wants another shiny tie with front embroidery or Ravnager the Avenger orders again.
The dream of 12 fold hopsack still lives on
Until then, proyect Cravatte Noir on the wall of the Uni hall to diagnose. Crazy, crazy eyes, you see them? Jajajja. Sweaty mastabatory dreams of Coke-fuelled raves on Ibiza, top beats, crowds cheering. Is your heart beating? Jajajja. On Majorca, the sound of the Jaguar engine revving, can you hear it? Jajajja. Top top down motoring, dodging German cyclist pelotons speeding, Feel the wind? Jajajja. Stop at Gordiola outside Algaida to get some lovely glass for Mami. Te gusta Mami? Jajajja. Speed on to Palma to fuck top models on yacht of Corrupt construction pals. See my new condos? Jajajja. Top top Corneliani in the days before the downfall with Orazio. Jajajja. Jerk off to recordings of Degrelle. Feels so holy? Jajajja. Knock at the door. Who is it, Murroquians, Banksters, Mami, Nazi Abuelo's ghost, NONONONO. Only the wind. Jajajja. Put a smelly, cum crusted sock on left hand, then one on the right hand. See them now, my spies? Jajajja all three of us laugh so hard like we did at Kiton.