tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59001843297075986872011-04-21T18:30:36.194-07:00Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08636610216771711904noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5900184329707598687.post-85406616330372226502008-04-20T18:05:00.000-07:002008-04-23T12:18:17.304-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,204)">TRES COSAS</span><br />Al final lo entendió. Todas las chicas quieren lo mismo: besos suaves, chistes malos en la medianoche y polvos rabiosos.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5900184329707598687-8540661633037222650?l=estoesvulgaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08636610216771711904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5900184329707598687.post-41532070623865995082007-07-15T18:12:00.000-07:002007-07-15T18:39:56.846-07:00<span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#6666cc;"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">ASI HABLA UNA DAMA</span><br /></strong></span>Jueves. 0.30. San Telmo: él pidió eso que lo demuele. Ella, entre sonrisas, respondió.<br />- Mejor no. Te va a gustar demasiado.</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5900184329707598687-4153207062386599508?l=estoesvulgaria.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08636610216771711904noreply@blogger.com7