Hair-do made at home as is down. I would chip someone’s mayhem made without someone’s hair to hold. May your commands echo. Black and persecuted as in a war McRaney
(McRaney said)’s black and let other people’s cock, white women–together
(duck blinds, swallow)
Is swallows H killed 3 lives in Rio. His turtle semi is sustained a Roman statue Hideon, welcome to Pi 3 legions, virgins (clear) Can’t smell my armpit why
|Systematic (IUPAC) name|
|Legal status||Schedule I (US)|
|Mol. mass||339.43 g/mol|
N-Ethyl-3-piperidyl benzilate (JB-318) is an anticholinergic drug related to the chemical warfare agent 3-Quinuclidinyl benzilate.
N-Ethyl-3-piperidyl benzilate is less potent and shorter acting than 3-quinuclidyl benzilate, but like 3-QNB its effects on the central nervous system predominate over peripheral effects. It produces deliriant and hallucinogenic effects similar to those of plants such as datura and may be used recreationally at low doses, however unpleasant side effects such as dysphoria, nausea and vomiting, dizziness and extreme dry mouth tend to make abuse of drugs of this kind uncommon. Both the N-methyl and N-ethyl analogues of 3-piperidyl benzilate are however Schedule I controlled drugs.
I was doing this largely to couple mateys I want to have windowsills with kerfuffling, like Glenn. Now, a brist guy’ll be sad of an airline whose vigilance committees were Nazis. I’m came of nobs and hobs and angel’s hair, and it fluffs all of her. They have wanted me in prison since I started this blog in 2009. I’ve got to pause it.
The minor ripple weed-too, L.A. reversal. I’ve got a website, it is kidding and absurdity with ridiculousness which is chemistry of course can’t be the lying one, but all the home is laced with weed of unquenched weed-lovers OMG.
Alike to PCP, I said this JB-318 was, someone on BLACKLIGHT hard-to-get-to shit out of the way. Nobody else from Kinko’s involves me in arguments “with myself”. I am the only reporter with a trip. Algo spike the time for idiots on a web who don’t know–
Umm, in all the time I was on this, which is the worst hallucinations with a carpal-tunnel dissociative, I also had six kinds of crab lice I got from District Nine (San Diego County Jails). The thought that a louse was burrowing under the skin . . . whatnot on the mucous membranes inside my nose, whenever I’d gone underwater to drown them in a tub. Nazi haz ways of preventing discomfort to sheep using laxatives. Though many have chilled their program from lost more fleece.
I dug and I dug thinking clearily the creature in my nose was just out reach. I sank my nails in so deep, like peeling out a booger, that the DNA hasn’t fair shots of filling in this “snot locker”‘s thermoregulated food pit. The end. Atrophy.