3 Teen Backpacker Strangers Film Themselves Playing With And Having Shower Fun

⚡ TÜM BİLGİLER! BURAYA TIKLAYIN 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻

3 Teen Backpacker Strangers Film Themselves Playing With And Having Shower Fun
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Alle anzeigen Alle mit wife fucking getaggten Fotos



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Happy Anniversary to my lovely wife....
Everyday a gift... I call you mine....
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Mmm, uh, yo, I got the money and the power now
The G5'll get me out there in an hour now
The MAC movin’ like crack, I'm sellin' powder now
G-Game over, locker room, hit them showers now
I got the trophies and the catalogue
Just did a deal, Mercedes-Benz, check the catalogue
I'm buyin' buildings, we don't buy the blogs (Kyuh)
The Nicki challenge when I fly to Prague, uh
Uh, yo, who want it with Nicki now?
Whatever you say, Mrs. Majesty (Oh, oh)
Whatever you want, you can have from me (Oh, oh)
Won’t give it up, hey, hey, hey, hey
Someone's wife, so time we spend is borrowed
But it's our moment right here, fuck tomorrow
'Cause moments like these are to die for
As hair when I'm bleaching it blonde
So we got that lightning in a bottle (Oh)
Slick Rick song or throw some Souls of Mischief on
She goes, "All that old school hip-hop is over
I told her, "Bitch, now, just hold up!"
Our genre's lymph nodes are swole up
It's time to check it for strep or some tonsillitis
'Cause like what they swab you with when your throat hurts
That's why Tribe is so vital: we need Q-Tip for the culture
You ain't dealin' with a fuckin' featherweight
I used to medicate until I'd get a fuckin' bellyache
And now I'm finna step on the pedal, don't wanna ever brake
I want to accelerate to a level that I can elevate
Demented with the pen, I'll make the mothafucker detonate
I wanna make it acapella—wait, I gotta set a date
With the devil and celebrate, together we can renovate
And re-develop, Hell awaits, and I'ma get a special place
Now, take a ride with me, hop into my time machine
I'ma take the driver's seat as I thrust into hyperspeed
Like I'm a meteorite, and mothafuck the fucking media
Right in the behind; I'm a human encyclopedia
I must be like pie crust because I was bred to rise like I was yeast
And you're never gonna reach these heights
I ain't even reached my fuckin' highest
You better pick another game, try hide-and-seek
And you might wanna decide to cheat
'Cause you gotta open your eyes to peek
Am I indeed the last of a dying breed?
Even if you fire-breathe, ain't shit you can say to inspire heat
If you wrapped your entire Mead pad up in a dryer sheet
And I'm back to rule the kingdom of fuck it
Two things shouldn't be your themes of discussion
Last thing you're gonna wanna be is our subjects, yeah
Whatever you say, Mrs. Majesty (Oh, oh)
Whatever you want, you can have from me (Oh, oh)
Won't give it up, hey, hey, hey, hey
I know you sittin' there just thinkin' 'bout who did you that
Can't post on Nicki block unless you sellin' Nicki crack
Out ah road, they lovin' my style (Style)
The man dem want digits fi dial (Dial)
Inna the dance, we a go skin out I know (I know)
And when I come out, y'all suicidal ('Cidal)
Yeah, on the real, I'm these bitches' idol (Idol)
Gotta be dumb to make me your rival (Rival)
'Cause I'm too powerful ('Cause I'm too powerful)
And you not powerful (Yeah, you not powerful)
So say your prayers 'cause you 'bout to die slow (Die slow)
Die slow (Die slow), die slow (Die slow)
Jealousy is a disease, die slow (Die slow)
If you want to know that everything that glitters is not gold, keep reading and you will understand ...
The day I went to this area of trees, to take photos, it was apparently a normal and calm day. When I got up, I looked out the window and saw that it was one of those foggy days, although it was not a very dense fog, it was enough to enjoy my passion ... to get to this place, I have to travel by car, if I don't, I can freeze to death on the way ... here when it's foggy and it's very early, you know, the wind chill can be very harsh. Once I got to the place I wanted ... you can imagine, this is quite a large area and it is full of trees, so for someone like me who loves this, here he goes crazy and starts shooting like there is no tomorrow ... I spent a lot of time here, walking and photographing among this beauty. My surprise came when I was already half freezing to death, I decided to keep my camera and go home, to take a good shower of hot water and a delicious coffee ... I reached into my jacket pocket, to get the keys from my car ... boom! Surprise! There is no key! What? What the heck is going on here and what a fucking joke is this? (Sorry, but that's how I felt) I started to get quite nervous about this, I think I had never lost my car key ... and less in a place like that, where I had gone more laps than a Ferris wheel ... shit! What do I do ... finding the key here is crazy! God, please take me with you! Well, after searching and searching, going up and down for a long time ... I called my wife ... look, this has happened to me ... Can you come get me please? You know that I love you very much, right? Can you bring me the second car key, please? My wife to the rescue ... she came and we looked for the key together, but no luck! We left because it was Sunday and we had things to do too ... my head wouldn't stop spinning because of what happened ... how was it possible? After a few hours, it was noon, I decided to go back to the crime scene, I had to find it ... the fog had disappeared and the sun was shining, perhaps now it would be possible ... I spent a long time again looking for the key and trying to follow the steps that I had traveled before ... when I had already decided to go home due to the lack of strength to continue there and because of the physical and mental exhaustion that I had ... for some incomprehensible reason, perhaps out of mercy or perhaps compassion, God left a key there, on the ground, in the grass ... my eyes and my pride couldn't believe it ... I didn't have enough teeth for my smile !!! I couldn't believe finding that when I was completely giving up! Luckily it was not the typical key that we all know, it was a card type key (like a credit card) and maybe that's why you could see it! I think that if it had been the classic key, I would not have found it in my life! Several days after this, right now, when I am writing these lines I keep thinking about how lucky I was to find her ... I promise you that right now I can see the fog from my window, it is 10:17 am on the morning of the first day of the year ... but this time I'm not going to leave my house ... I'm just going to get up from my chair to go find a good coffee!
Please, when you go to take photos, close the pocket tightly where you leave the car key or the house key ... I do not recommend losing that in the forest to anyone, I really had a bad and stressful morning!
Processed by: mavenimagery Labs, Universal Studios, Californa.
HDR PROCESSED with IRET (Iris Range Enhancement Technology)
IRET (Iris Range Enhancement Technology and MavenFilters are products of mavenimagery Labs Innovation)
Please read the hilarious true story. Names and some details have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals. This is not the actual building narrated in the story.
The sound of a four-wheeler engine could be heard faintly from a little distance away.
Now, the sound of the engine was within a disturbing distance.
Less than in seconds, the sound was pummeling my eardrums.
Can I help you? Asked the man on the four-wheeler.
Having had heard this question only God knows how many times in my life I knew what it meant: what are you doing in my property? Why are you taking picture of my house, boat, condo, barn, wife, horse, satellite dish, truck, junk, pet, lot, fence, door…and any million of things that exist under the sun whether they belonged to someone private, company, government, nature or God. In this case it was a million dollar castle-like house. My answer, though rarely varies, is always the same, after a long pause and, “not that damn question again! Can’t you people get a bit more creative, that is.
Not unless you know how to take pictures, I said casually.
Are you taking picture of my house?
Still adjusting the settings, looking for a different angle, I said, I take pictures of beautiful things. And…I pause, wearing a fake curious expression. “Are you the care-taker? The butler? The reason I’m asking cause even the caretaker or the maid use the expression ‘my house’, like they own the thing…this castle, or whatever.
I’m the owner and you’re trespassing.
That goddamn word hits me right between my eyes every time. That word, after 9/11, that replaced 'Amen' in a pious mind; replaced doubt to trust, love to hate, evil to good, friends to enemies, colors to faces and places...
And can you, please, turn that thing off? I’m not really enjoying this engine noise
Good. Uncle Sam must be proud of you.
Do you always go into people’s property and take pictures without asking permission?
Sharks begin swimming in my head. Yes, I said. But we don’t go knocking on people’s door, disrupting their privacy asking for permission.
Professionals! Law-abiding citizens who bear A-Wear-Ness of the law and the privacy of others . Where other’s privacy starts yours ends. The latter is my motto, not in the book.
The sharks transform into little harmless fish.
I’m not trespassing. See, I point at the white painted wooden fence. You’re on the other side of the fence and I’m on this side. If you’ve had owned this side, here, where I’m standing…hey! Look at where I’m pointing! Here! You’d have built your fence here and not here!
Does Terry know you’re in his property?
A shark tries to push or swallow the little fish in my head, but my brain stops it.
I sigh. Not ‘nless he is a psychic. And who the hell is Terry?
Terry is my brother. You could’ve asked him.
I turn around. I look at the ram-shackle, falling apart barn. Someone lives in there? Ter?—
Cute names. Terry and Trey Ratcliffe. And Terry, your brother. Lives. There. In that pig-stile and you live in that castle, right?
Friendly, conspiratorial tone. Listen, Mr Ratcliffe. Don’t get all cute and smart ass with me. I don’t know what’s your stash in that shack or in your castle. I’m not a cop. . Excuse the pun Mr Ratcliffe but I couldn’t care a rat’s ass. In this town if you own a house worth a million dollar, you’re stinking-dirty motherfucker. In LA if you own a house worth five mil. And you’re not a celeb actor or sports legend-Tiger-Fucking-woods or the likes, you’re stinking-dirty just the same. What do you do for living? How could you afford this house?
Silence. Mr Ratcliffe only stares, perplexed. Not expecting such an encounter in his present life.
Now, Ima gonna go. I’m losing light. I’m losing the sun.
You’re weird. You’re talking about the sun. What’s your name?
Take the license plate and call the sheriff, Mr Ratcliffe”.
As I drive away, I glance at the side mirror. Mr Ratcliffe driving his four-wheeler like a mad man toward his castle. Good. Call the Sherriff, I mutter to myself.
As I look through the view finder, I hear screeching, breaking noise behind me. Then the sound of slamming door of a vehicle.
You’re not going anywhere! barks Mr Ratcliffe, holding a cell phone in his hand. He flips it open and punches the obvious three digits that will be answered by a practiced voice, "911. How can I help you?" routine.
Oh, you again, I say in an indifferent tone. Mr Ratcliffe.
The Chevy truck parked face to face with my Audi, blocking my escaping, so to speak. Mr Ratcliffe is now talking with the Sherriff’s dispatcher, walking back and forth. All I Think is, ‘Finally, you dumb-ass-hillbilly-rat-fuck”.
There is a gentleman here, Mr Ratcliffe’s voice trails off. “Acting very evasive…”
After a few more clicks of another modern-gothic architecture, I walk toward Mr Ratcliffe and I lean closer to the cell phone, making sure the dispatcher on the other end will hear me.
“Stop following me!” I shout. “Stop F....wasting my time!”. He walks away from me and says, “He’s telling me to stop f….waste his time….”
I’m back behind the camera. Several minutes later Mr Ratcliffe finishes his sweet chat, his face ash pale.
The expression on Mr Ratcliffe turned into crimson red and read, “How the hell did he know that? Who’s this guy?”.
Suddenly, he makes a dart to the truck, yanks the door open and grabs a weapon.
“Didja know that this is a cowboy town, boy?” he snaps, pointing a .44 caliber Winchester rifle at me, his nostrils widens . “Didja?”
“Well, now you should, pretty boy! You’re talking to a cowboy!”
“Where’re your boots? Your cowboy outfit. You look like one them UPS delivery guys with that stupid shorts”
“Well, that don’t’ madder, cause I have the gun now” a stupid, childish-Billy The Kid smirk.
‘OK” I say in a firm tone, pushing the barrel aside, looking Mr Ratcliffe in the eye. Mr Ratcliffe who turned this whole incident into a personal vendetta; who wanted me on my knees pleading, “I’m sorry, sir. Please don’t hurt me,” and him yelling, “Who’s the bitch now? Who? Who’s the rat?”
“Easy now, Mary,” I say as calm as they come. “Put The rifle away. I don’t have time to play cowboys with you”
A lost, confused, and totally flabbergasted Mr Ratcliffe pivots on his sandaled feet and screams, “Ima shoot your tire!”
I let out a deep sigh. Sharks are taking over small fish rapidly.
I launch at Mr Ratcliffe, pushing him against his truck and press my elbow against his neck, pressing CWP Badge over his face.
I take control of my mind and tell the sharks to go swim and hunt somewhere else. Woosharks!
“What’re you doing, man? A friend giving advice to a friend. “There is penal code for this: felony! You can’t follow people, point guns at them. You do serious time for this. Get a grip of your wits you twit! See, I was minding my own business, treating you like a man. But, you couldn’t let it go, could you? You had to pull that territorial-cowboy shit with me”
“You said you ain’t a cop” comes the garbled voice.
“I’m not. This is a protection tool from mindless-rat-fucks like you. It’s a permit to carry gun. See, people get nervous when a gun pointed at them. They reach to their gun and fire back at your miserable-cowboy-ass. You can’t point a gun at anybody. You do at least a year in a pen, that is if you have no prior, which I’m sure you do. Innocent and civilized people don’t act the way you do—
I exhale. “You know what? You’re right. But your neck is against my elbow…do you feel the strength? The suffocating pressure? I could f….break your neck…beat you to death and call the Sherriff, taking my time and break some bones until the police arrives. There is no court of law which could prosecute me in this country. It’s called self-defense. Blank or not you have a weapon—‘
“You’re not gonna hurt me are you?”
“Hurt you? I would protect you against your stupid brains. Now, I’m gonna let you breathe. Are we gonna be cool?”
“Are we gonna be cool like Fonzie? You know who’s Fonzie is, right?”
Note Later, I'd discovered, including one in my family, have had experienced similar incident in this town. A guy coming out and putting the gun into a female real-estate appraisal agent’s head. This town, Oakdale, is on the way to Yosemite and notorious for such aggressive, rude and criminal activities. It rarely, if ever, happens to me since I’m such a nice person:) I get invited for a cup of coffee and sometimes get engaged in a lengthy chat.
Cut off from the sea by the suspicious port authorities in Shanghai it seemed that the only way I was going to get out of China was overland. This was my ticket.
In Shanghai I had inquired of every traveler I met about the path ahead of me. I had heard tales of this magnificent and exotic railway adventure before... they called it the greatest railway journey on earth. The longest stretch of steel rail ever layed.
An Australian traveller named Mark told me that he had heard that there was a guy in Beijing who could get me a ticket.
I asked Mark how I could find this guy in Beijing. He said just go there and ask for 'The Crocodile.' Just go to a city of some ten million souls and ask for 'The Crocodile'? It sounded almost insane to me.
Ditching Mark after he made moves on my Chinese girlfriend and ditching my Chinese girlfriend after she got all worked up when a soldier who was following me took a picture of us together on the riverfront... I understood her fear in that time of Tienenmen Square and I knew it was time once again to get moving. It was time to move north to Beijing... the city they once called Peking.
Tsu Tsu Mei was a nice girl. She had told me to call her Eleanor... because that was what she called her 'American name.' I couldn't do it because she just didn't look like an Eleanor to me... I always called her Tsu Tsu Mei. And I think that she really liked that I did... it would have been easier to call her Eleanor I'm sure... but each time I called her 'Tsu Tsu Mei' she gave me this look... it started with a big warm vulnerable smile that made it seem to me that she was melting inside with warm thoughts and shaking knees.
That look always made me want to scoop her up in my arms and give her the same feelings right back. Whenever I said her name and got that look... it just kind of summed everything up right there in that moment. I really liked that. Sometimes I wished that it had gone farther but the way it ended is why I have the memories I do... and I hope she does too... we never hurt each other... never not once... it was the hard and cold government of an opressive authoritarian regime that broke both of our hearts there in Shanghai. It wasn't either of us... it wasn't our fault.
I was with Mark the Australian when I met Tsu Tsu Mei... we were tooling around Shanghai and we had just gotten on the bus after a tour of the Shanghai Waterpipe Factory Number Seven where I had just purchased a fine example of a brass opium waterpipe. We had seen the place while riding the bus and jumped off... the factory was really happy to have foreigners tour the place. I couldn't believe that there were at least six other water bong factories in Shanghai. Somehow we had found the seventh.
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