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The Floating City

literally.

San Francisco, the city that sits above the clouds.

Anyways, Michelle and I dropped the infamous love fest.

Other than a crap load of people, there were trucks surrounding the entire civic center plaza with gigantic speakers and subwoofer just blasting out trance music. People from all over the place were just dancing their asses off. Exotic cuisines were located in the center of the festival marinated with the scent of weed. It was wild.

All kinds of people were there..

The Street light climber.

Pinoqio girl.

Tall patriots.

Team nipple twisters.

No one can escape their mad nipple twisting skills. They showed no mercy.

Friendly bystanders.

That was a wrap for the lovefest.

We then met up with the guys for dinner.

Our feet.

aw, the bare-footed was isolated.

So, the restaurant.

A restaurant that’s everything garlic.

The stinking Rose herself.

The ladies.

The gents.

The sauce.

..and a lot more other dishes, but the photographer was too busy eating.

: 30 minutes later :

The hunger-satisfied ladies.

The please-don’t-give-me-anymore-food gents.

It was a pretty good restaurant. Other than the 1 hour and 30 minutes long line for those who didn’t make a reservation and the..

Breath of death aftermath, it was a great place to bring your peers with.

And that’s the wrap for the day.
——————————————————————————————————–
C.N.G.N.O.T

He punched pretty hard.

——————————————————————————————————–
Spread the Zeeb. Spot the Zeeb.

Courtesy of Kerks

-Benson

http://www.theimaginaryzebra.com

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