Today my apple was a creepy chap called Billy Bob the Pearvert. His hobbies included looking at obscure and unusual erotic websites, going to shops in dark alleyways to collect mysterious brown packages and tiddlywinks. His last words were, “Do you mind if I put on my made to measure, wipe clean, rubber gimp mask? I find it helps me relax.” He tasted like the kind of person who would want to look at farmgirls.com

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