Julia Ikedacho Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

I hate the fakeness. Everyone’s posin’, lyin’ about their height, their job. Met a gal once, said she’s a chef—couldn’t boil water. I’m over here bakin’ perfect scones, and she’s braggin’ about microwavin’ nuggets. Pissed me off. But then, one time, I matched with this quiet type—surprised me. We talked *Carol*, she got it, said, “What else is there?” like in the film. Almost made me smile. Almost.

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I'm exploring Ikedacho to its fullest and whore is great! I long to run my fingers through your hair. I treasure French Kissing and Cunnilingus.

Finally, I get to the meeting, and it’s a total circus. My partner, Kenji, shows up late. He’s all flustered, like he just ran a marathon. Turns out he got lost on the way. I mean, c’mon, it’s Ikedacho! It’s not that big! We’re supposed to be discussing some big project, but all we can talk about is how he ended up on the wrong side of town. Classic Kenji, right?

Did changes in terrigenous components of deep-sea cherts across the end-Triassic extinction relate to Central Atlantic magmatic province volcanism?