It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. And I don’t. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. But I don’t suppose you can understand.
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This video was uploaded to replicawatchaaa.top on 11-06-2024 12:27:33
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