O adorável cheiro a merda fresca que a cidade, no verão, transpira, e que a fresca brisa vespertina candidamente espalha.

Aquelo cheiro a borra de vinho quente ao sol das mercearias de outros tempos, no virão

What are called vices in the natural world, are the highest sublimities in the spiritual world.

Shevchenquíase

Cêdê três pitobilanova suma colonial fleuma magggica

Stressed Helveg eating a kettle of cocks

Achas que as barbas dos profetas picam?

Mwerinde dropped out of school early, had a number of children to different men and owned a bar, where she served banana beer brewed by her father.

"He had her skull opened up so he could masturbate into it, apparently in an attempt to bring her back to life." foooooooda-se

Quando se aboliu a escravatura deixou de se poder dar a liberdade, o maior presente que se podia dar, a alguém. Já não podemos chegar ao pé de alguém e dizer-lhe "vai, és livre, vive a tua vida". Em vez de sermos todos livres, somos todos escravos.

By last winter Villas-Boas had become so stressed that, instead of returning home to his wife and two small daughers, he sometimes spent the night at Chelsea's Cobham training ground, sleeping in a Japanese style pod. On those occasions when his black BMW four-wheel-drive remained in the car park overnight, Villas-Boas invariably rose before dawn in order to study statistical data.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Eckersley, Chelsea's Wombat-flipping Department secretary. "You alright there, André, luv?" - in his hand, a freshly brewed cup of coffee from the finest jungles of French Guyana (a present, in fact, from Florence Malouda), whose deep, acerbic smell soon stunk up the tiny Japanese pod. "Sorry, old bean, still working you see...", André replied. - "Well, mind if I join you in there?"
"... thought you'd never ask."