Monday, November 16, 2020

LOVE AND ANARCHY

Sophie is one horny cougar who fornicated with an equally lustful post-teenage Max to push Lund & Lagerstedt to the edge and burn her forest with episodes of quick masturbation.

She reminds me of someone from Bangkok and Siem Reap, not asexual Friedrich and the lesbian Denise but more like our hosts at Rana Slott and the multitude of Gamla Stan who stoked the Stockhom Syndrome's fixation to a well-behaved and modest Grecian princess whose pent-up horniness was breached by the accidental brushing of erogenous zones to ignite a wild orgy amidst smashed cakes and everywhere in every position conceivable when she is not masturbating in the bathroom. 

Bizzare, like Zeina's sudden urge to fuck Tony under the bombs in Southern Lebanon.

Macabre, like Xandra's double life and obvious preference for Martina's pussy rather than Ralp's dick, Anne's sideline as a high end merchandise as enigmatic as Sylvia and dense like Michiel and the old empty churches in De Wallen where the free cheese of Amsterdam tasted like the women of the night and perhaps the corylus too who would be a lovely fuck.

It will take 58 days to bike through the Blues Highway at 40 kms/day so I would rather start in Memphis and fry chicken in Clarksdale, smoke some ribs in Cleveland and do a barbecue in Greenville on the way to New Orleans where I once crossed the Missisippi River to Maturanoc for Kuya A's goat kaldereta and pinapaitan that turned out to be a huge letdown.


We always take the BART but next time, I will ride a bike through Mission Street from Daly City to San Francisco and back twice to notch 40 kilometers that will deserve a pierna enchilada from La Torta Gorda and would not mind adding four more kilometers for an apple fritter at Bob's Donut and Pastry Shop and perhaps a clam chowder too at the Swan Oyster Depot. 

It was always the MRT in Singapore but a meal of chicken rice at the Maxwell Hawker Center powered me by foot to the Raffles Hotel where the famous Singapore Sling was created, and enough for a side trip to pick up a tub of chwee kue, one or two shiok dishes and a peranakan cuisine sampler for the pulutan to feed the Bakal 2 Bikers in Delaen.


Somebody feed Phil too and for that, a meal of feijoada and picanha with a pitcher of caipirinha at one of Rio de Janeiro's botecas would be best after a downhill ride from Sugarloaf Mountain to Copacabana Beach; or maybe poke, poi and huli-huli chicken after crossing Hawaii's Big Island from Waikiki Beach to the North Shore which is only 65 kilometers by bike, more than half of which was recorded in Munoz by the welcome committee for Typhoon Ulysses.
    

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