Bunga Better Have Croissants In Caterin’
Jan 30, 2022 6:08:27 GMT -5
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Post by Azurine Vebbins on Jan 30, 2022 6:08:27 GMT -5
“Da Damsel in Dat Dress” Azurine Vebbins opens her promotional material by politely prancing towards a polished podium. She sports a lesbian flag pullover hoodie, magenta Skechers Gowalk High Waisted Skort, and one pair of sanded purple, dark grey, and amethyst tint Nike Revolution 5 Wide Running Shoes. “Da Adorkable Angel” elected such sneakers since her upcoming tussle will commence at Revolution V.
Azurine Vebbins: Abundant assuasive acknowledgments, American audience. Dis Sunday night at da Capitol One Arena in de facto state fifty-one Washin’-ton, D.C., my taggable teammate and I end a noxious national nightmare. Aphable Azzumption aggressively assembles to fundamentally fight for da Action Wrestlin’ CruiserClash Tag-Team Titles. You heard me right, folk: fight. Our odious opposition shall not face defeat by pragmatic parliamentary procedure. Neider can dey be ousted via people turnin’ out at pole studios…pollin’ stations. Admittedly, “Da Bad Apple Bottom Gene” and I shall toast triumphant inside an establishment of exposed expression. Dat outcome only occurs, however, upon completion of championship congress. By da same arcade game token, Aphriya and dis dame haven’t been tasked wid fearsome forces like Kill-Mart.
Ulysses S. Granted, Aphable Azzumption touts two victories over tried and true tandems. Adler and I lassoed Lucha World Order. We humbled dose hapless hosers hailed as Da Heritage. Caught dem bode off-guard usin’ college coed textbook technique. “Sheltered From Sunlight” Grady Kilbride and “Neuters Nicknames” Spayed Martinez, dough, are an anomalous case study. Dey aren’t bonded drou-gh chummy chemistry. Rad-er, dey come across as a coalition of compromised combustion. Whed-er it’s a heated headbutt, errant elbow, or you slap one anoder’s facial cheeks silly, irrational individual interest will ignite intense intolerance.
I believe Martinez Awkwardly Guerillas Away when she views Aphriya and me delegatin’ an efficient derriere democracy. It’s a supershow and our dird time dancin’ to-ged-er. Hence, I doubt she, Krystal Halestorm, myself, and/or my future fiancee Corrie Layton gettin’ cross over reachin’ for hot buns. We’re professionals and will always attempt hand-to-hand. Yet, Adler and myself are comfortably cheeky, too. Well, dat and it’s National Croissant Day. Reminds me how Bunga better have croissants in Caterin’. I’m Manifest Destiny serious when it comes to nutritive notions. Leave burnt bread for Kilbride. It’ll be symbolic of when Spayde gives her nonverbal concession by walkin’ up da entrance ramp. Personally, I’d prefer pinnin’ her strong armin’ shoulders to da mat. Dat would be real revolution. Her bein’ brought down by a couple good ass grapplers. Spayde statin’ in a concession speech followin’ da final bell dat Aphable Azzumption was one test she could not ace.
“Da Vivacious Variable” steps to the left of her lectern, curtsies, and then pirouettes off-screen.
Azurine Vebbins: Abundant assuasive acknowledgments, American audience. Dis Sunday night at da Capitol One Arena in de facto state fifty-one Washin’-ton, D.C., my taggable teammate and I end a noxious national nightmare. Aphable Azzumption aggressively assembles to fundamentally fight for da Action Wrestlin’ CruiserClash Tag-Team Titles. You heard me right, folk: fight. Our odious opposition shall not face defeat by pragmatic parliamentary procedure. Neider can dey be ousted via people turnin’ out at pole studios…pollin’ stations. Admittedly, “Da Bad Apple Bottom Gene” and I shall toast triumphant inside an establishment of exposed expression. Dat outcome only occurs, however, upon completion of championship congress. By da same arcade game token, Aphriya and dis dame haven’t been tasked wid fearsome forces like Kill-Mart.
Ulysses S. Granted, Aphable Azzumption touts two victories over tried and true tandems. Adler and I lassoed Lucha World Order. We humbled dose hapless hosers hailed as Da Heritage. Caught dem bode off-guard usin’ college coed textbook technique. “Sheltered From Sunlight” Grady Kilbride and “Neuters Nicknames” Spayed Martinez, dough, are an anomalous case study. Dey aren’t bonded drou-gh chummy chemistry. Rad-er, dey come across as a coalition of compromised combustion. Whed-er it’s a heated headbutt, errant elbow, or you slap one anoder’s facial cheeks silly, irrational individual interest will ignite intense intolerance.
I believe Martinez Awkwardly Guerillas Away when she views Aphriya and me delegatin’ an efficient derriere democracy. It’s a supershow and our dird time dancin’ to-ged-er. Hence, I doubt she, Krystal Halestorm, myself, and/or my future fiancee Corrie Layton gettin’ cross over reachin’ for hot buns. We’re professionals and will always attempt hand-to-hand. Yet, Adler and myself are comfortably cheeky, too. Well, dat and it’s National Croissant Day. Reminds me how Bunga better have croissants in Caterin’. I’m Manifest Destiny serious when it comes to nutritive notions. Leave burnt bread for Kilbride. It’ll be symbolic of when Spayde gives her nonverbal concession by walkin’ up da entrance ramp. Personally, I’d prefer pinnin’ her strong armin’ shoulders to da mat. Dat would be real revolution. Her bein’ brought down by a couple good ass grapplers. Spayde statin’ in a concession speech followin’ da final bell dat Aphable Azzumption was one test she could not ace.
“Da Vivacious Variable” steps to the left of her lectern, curtsies, and then pirouettes off-screen.
