Dread, Blight, and Schmoozed
Jan 17, 2021 23:58:28 GMT -5
Karlie Nash, Stuart Slane, and 3 more like this
Post by Azurine Vebbins on Jan 17, 2021 23:58:28 GMT -5
Her promotional material opens with a pristine pour of carafe-cajoled coffee. “Da Damsel in Dat Dress” Azurine Vebbins saunters like a saucer into frame. She feels her lips soft-shoe sip for seventeen seconds. Since our perennially perky protagonist’s postulating against acrimonious adversaries such as Karlie Nash and Nikki Vaughn, she needed time to acclimate alertness. Mrs. Vebbins aims the Camerasphere VRD at two stylized steel chairs hanging behind her. One chair’s headrest reads “KARLIE DA HUNT.” The other’s inscribed with “NIKKI YAWN.” Upon showcasing her Grade-A chairsmithing, Mrs. Vebbins reorients focus onto herself as she zips up a thermal wetsuit.
Azurine Vebbins: Dree-hundred and eight days separate when Karlie Nash and I last clashed in a non-ballet rumba here in Action Wrestlin’. Dat’s approximately forty-four Sundays of my estranged mod-der Audrey askin’ “When are you attendin’ service and learnin’ Leader’s lesson?” In plain, monosyllabic English you might understand, clunk: I shalt be da one to teach dat tramp who plays crone catch a trick or two. For Saint Sophia Petrillo’s sake, I’ll have her picturin’ shady pines in Sicily after deliverin’ my patented Pearly Gatekeeper. Actually, I imagine she’s a dame who’d shout da name of blessed Blanche Deveraux in vain whilst bawdily bedded. Granted, she views me as a Rose Nylund rube. Believe you me, dough, I’ll have dat holier-dan-dou harpy flailin’ like Dor-o-dy Zbornak in futile frustration. Dat’s da rational result when her sawed-off shotgun shoulders get covered.
Den again, “Da Premier Ad-lete” might claim, unlike March 16 last year, we’re paired wid preferred dance partners. She’s seconded by Nikki Vaughn and I’m coupled wid “Da Olympia Octopus Stretcher” Nidrah. Bode are model teammates However, when Nikki Yawn prattles profusely ’bout Mrs. Tom Brady, I tune out quicker dan University of Indiana Hoosiers hearin’ Purdue Boilermakers babble. Conversely, da talent I tango alongside speaks sweet, sincere, and succinct. It’s like brewin’ beans on National Gourmet Coffee Day Monday mornin’. Do you really want da same burnt drip? I’d rad-er taste bold, full-bodied richness which can only be experienced from hints of macadamia nut, vanilla, coconut, pineapple, mango, seville orange, brazil nut, bananas foster, and possibly palm oil? Dose are da delectable descriptors I offer to my profoundly proud partner.
Speakin’ of pride when properly placed, I’m takin’ dis moment to echo a Dr. Kin’ sentiment. Judgin’ dem by content of character alone, my Nidrah’s trust-word-i-ness outmatches Vaughn’s vain vitriol. We share a delicious dynamic which resonates to chanters from copious communities. It’s why I hy-pod-e-size Pineapple Promenade’s more marketable dan Dread, Blight, and Schmoozed. Any two trollops can vaunt behind a veiled veneer. It’s much more magical blendin’ individual islands into an amazin’ archipelago. Dis Monday night at CruiserClash, Nidrah and I must wead-er a slanderous storm when facin’ Nash and Vaughn. Based on every-din’ I’ve compiled, we possess umbrellas of umbrage big enough to survive deyr savagery.
Azurine Vebbins: Dree-hundred and eight days separate when Karlie Nash and I last clashed in a non-ballet rumba here in Action Wrestlin’. Dat’s approximately forty-four Sundays of my estranged mod-der Audrey askin’ “When are you attendin’ service and learnin’ Leader’s lesson?” In plain, monosyllabic English you might understand, clunk: I shalt be da one to teach dat tramp who plays crone catch a trick or two. For Saint Sophia Petrillo’s sake, I’ll have her picturin’ shady pines in Sicily after deliverin’ my patented Pearly Gatekeeper. Actually, I imagine she’s a dame who’d shout da name of blessed Blanche Deveraux in vain whilst bawdily bedded. Granted, she views me as a Rose Nylund rube. Believe you me, dough, I’ll have dat holier-dan-dou harpy flailin’ like Dor-o-dy Zbornak in futile frustration. Dat’s da rational result when her sawed-off shotgun shoulders get covered.
Den again, “Da Premier Ad-lete” might claim, unlike March 16 last year, we’re paired wid preferred dance partners. She’s seconded by Nikki Vaughn and I’m coupled wid “Da Olympia Octopus Stretcher” Nidrah. Bode are model teammates However, when Nikki Yawn prattles profusely ’bout Mrs. Tom Brady, I tune out quicker dan University of Indiana Hoosiers hearin’ Purdue Boilermakers babble. Conversely, da talent I tango alongside speaks sweet, sincere, and succinct. It’s like brewin’ beans on National Gourmet Coffee Day Monday mornin’. Do you really want da same burnt drip? I’d rad-er taste bold, full-bodied richness which can only be experienced from hints of macadamia nut, vanilla, coconut, pineapple, mango, seville orange, brazil nut, bananas foster, and possibly palm oil? Dose are da delectable descriptors I offer to my profoundly proud partner.
Speakin’ of pride when properly placed, I’m takin’ dis moment to echo a Dr. Kin’ sentiment. Judgin’ dem by content of character alone, my Nidrah’s trust-word-i-ness outmatches Vaughn’s vain vitriol. We share a delicious dynamic which resonates to chanters from copious communities. It’s why I hy-pod-e-size Pineapple Promenade’s more marketable dan Dread, Blight, and Schmoozed. Any two trollops can vaunt behind a veiled veneer. It’s much more magical blendin’ individual islands into an amazin’ archipelago. Dis Monday night at CruiserClash, Nidrah and I must wead-er a slanderous storm when facin’ Nash and Vaughn. Based on every-din’ I’ve compiled, we possess umbrellas of umbrage big enough to survive deyr savagery.