If you’re going to hit on me, please wear boxing gloves. I get it though, because when I’m dancing it looks like I’m fighting. In the face of violence, I’m just that gentle and sensual.
I’m not courageous. In fact, when I shadow box I wear boxing gloves that are outfitted with flashlights.
Never let go of a good thing without a fight. Especially if that good thing is a pair of boxing gloves.
Boxing gloves/oven mitts could be used to fight fires. My uppercut can knock you out cold, like melting ice. Sip it slowly.
I want to merge oven mitts with boxing gloves, so I could effectively, and safely, fight fires. After all, fire fighters make better lovers.
As my future crumbled before my eyes, I grasped for the rope. My entire life’s struggle was ending here, in plain view of my enemies. How was it possible? Had had I let things come...
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