Showderp, light of my life, fire of my loins. My champ, my team. May-may: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of two steps down the palate to tap, at two, on the teeth. May. May
She was champ, plain champ, in the morning, chosen by rite of sanic. She was chimp in slacks. She was lamp at school. She was limp on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always champ.
Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no champ at all had LC Guy not loved, one summer, a certain initial meme. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before champ was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a shitposter for a fancy prose style.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the anons, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged anons, envied. Look at this tangle of shitmons.
Lolita's musings:
plug.dj/showderp-1/Pictures of Lo:
booru.showderp.comNymphets:
memebasemon.comhttp://pastebin.com/0bYpM0atMy darling Dolores: !rkPjgtGAik
