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Out of touch
Slow down, will ya'll

I need a new set of friends. No, really. I feel completely out of touch. I stick out like a sore thumb. They're all climbing the property-ladder, getting knocked up (be it in the biblical way or by means of petri-dishes), getting married. Now, since some of these guys are getting on a bit its Jiste Kominie or maybe Lentefeest coming up. If there's any truth in statistics the first divorce is 3.147 years away (but everybody knows statistics mean f*ck all, so ya'll stick together now, K). And what about me in the meanwhile? Well, I'm renting a matchbox-size apartment I can hardly afford, I'm making f*ck all every month and as far as my offspring is concerned, I flush most of them down the toilet. I feel like I'm chickening out on most of life's really big issues. I know what you're gonna say. I took a leap when I went overseas. Yeah, I guess you're right, but I came back, didn't I? But off course, the answer to my quest is quite simple. All I need is a non-inflatable, non-sheep-shaped girlfriend with a loaded father (and preferably huge knockers -2 would be nice-, an insatiable libido and a nympho-lesbo sister). If you feel you meet these criteria, get in touch...

I think I just saw one passing by (not completely sure about the sister though). Good luck and bless.

One day, someone hàs to notice the teddybearish bietje under the thin volley-depeche-fokkin-irish-politics-saflette-surface...

Come on all ya searchin' homeless birds, it's a friend I recommend!

(Of course, the chance they read this is negligable)

everybody's breeding nowadays and the bottle you provided has brought us no luck so far...

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