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It was 2PM last Saturday (May 28). I observed you walking up the parking lot, en route to the mail room. I went inside the office to load my laundry card, hoping I'd get another glance as I made my way to the mail room. I held the door for you as you were leaving. After I got my mail, I watched you walk down the parking lot, but as I got in my car to leave, I could not see where you went. You live in my complex, you're pretty, and you have a pleasant voice. I imagine the chances of you reading this are slim to none, but if you remember what I was wearing, please respond with your picture and tell me what I was wearing. Perhaps we can check the mail again sometime.
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Blondes senior want casual porno Ireland Virtually every one in has had a close friend or relative killed by the Americans and/or the insurgents. There are a lot of unhappy, angry people. There are two different things happening at once: The Shia and Kurds are taking all the power away from the. The have no oil and be fifth class citizens in the country they used to control and loot. That is, if it remains a country and doesn't break into. If the country breaks apart, the have no economic base, so be in terrible shape. For some unexplainable reason the don't like that, so they are Americans, Shia and Kurds to express their displeasure. Revenge killings are taking place all over. are just clan/family differences from the last zillion years. Some are hatred of the invaders if your home town was invaded by some group that killed your family, destroyed your home and kept you in poverty, would you "-" them or kill them? The US can do absolutely nothing about whether the country breaks apart or not. The US can do nothing to calm the anger nor can the Kurds or Shia for that matter . Basiy our troops are handy targets as the classified portion of the Italian report pointed out . If they stay in the same spot for more than a few minutes, they get attacked and probably killed. Several other reports have highlighted that the US basiy only controls the ground they are standing on at that moment and if they stand there too, they die. Since this thing has spun way out of control, the best thing to do is remove the American targets and let the Iraqis sort out the whole mess. Note that the Shia and the Kurds have substantial, well armed militias that they can use to defend their areas from the. I hate to Americans getting killed for no good reason. -
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Me: Strapping barista (the one with the real mustache and gap in his front ) at the on Balfour and Highway 4 You: Cute blonde caffeine goddess with a latte mustache ...but you weren't that way when I first saw you. You walked in around 3pm, coming out of the Summer heat as sunlight glanced off your hair and caught my eye. You were an island amidst the sea of middle-aged moms fresh out of their afternoon yoga classes. Intrigued, I watched you slowly make your way down the line as I took orders for frappuccino after frappuccino. I hate making frappuccinos. It bastardizes everything that's great about the best drink on earth. I watched at you as you looked about the salads and pastries, clutching your iMac at your side. I wondered what you would order. No frap crap, I hoped. I couldn't have blamed you if had ordered something cold. It was so hot. But as they say, beautiful souls drink hot coffee. Just looking at you, I knew you were someone special. The moment arrived when you approached the counter. There was so much I wanted to say to you, but all I could muster was a "Hi, welcome to !". I felt like I had let you down, but you responded with the warmest smile and asked me how I was doing before placing a perfect order. I'll never forget it: a Tall Double Shot Caramel Latte with 2% milk. A true coffee lover's latte. I let out a big smile without realizing it. You were everything I'd hoped you'd be. We briefly locked eyes. I caught you looking down at the gap in my . I wondered if you thought it was cute. I still wonder what you think. As I gave you your change, our hands brushed against one another. Your caress awoke something inside me. I wanted to climb over the counter and walk out of , coffee in one hand and your hand in the other. You sat down with your latte and to my amazement you the lid off the cup and took a drink. I could feel the warm embrace of the foam against your upper lip. I wished I was that latte. You gently set the cup down and glanced up towards the counter. A thin film of coffee had stuck to the space between your chiseled nose and seductively lips. A latte mustache. Our eyes met, and for a moment, we admired one other's mustaches. Mine, neat and meticulously trimmed. Yours, made from coffee. Made for me. I just knew. After that first sip, did feel your heart racing? That was me. I gave you an extra shot of espresso. You didn't ask for it, but your eyes told me you wanted it. Just like that Thicke song. Good girl, indeed. If I could, I would give you all the add-ons for free, but that would get me fired. I can however, give you my all for free. That would get me fired up. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to talk to you after you sent that . The line was out the door, and I had work to do. You looked so busy on your laptop anyways. I guess we're both just responsible people. That's what I like about you. But there's a time for work and a time for play, so what do you say? Would you want to get coffee sometime with me? This barista is a dark coffee lover, but the next time we meet, I'll take the blonde roast.
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