Arboriculture specialists to the front of the queue
Man in
Weston Super Mare,
South West,
UK
Joined: 5 weeks ago
Last on: 4 hours ago
Wednesday...
My doctor recommended this site to cure me of my sex addiction.I think it's beginning to work
Looking For
Men
aged 18 to 99.
Won't meet smokers.
Meeting
Can
accommodate.
Can
travel.
SD
29 years old
Bisexual
5'10"
178cm
Athletic
Non smoker
Social drinker No tattoos No piercings
Size: Very Big
Role: Versatile Caucasian (white)
Interests
1 on 1, Army, Bears, Group sex, Kissing
Reasons to protect ancient trees.
1.They are beautiful and life enhancing 2.They absorb carbon dioxide and replenish the Earth's atmospheric oxygen,mitigating climate change 3.They promote biodiversity: thousands of birds,small mammals,and insects depend upon them for their survival 4.Their thick trunks provide excellent cover if you want to have indiscreet sex in broad daylight without attracting prying eyes.
What's not to like?
If all that isn't incentive enough,imagine a future world in which climate change and pollution are out of control.A nightmarish vision of searing heatwaves,wild fires,birds falling from the sky,mass extinction of species,rivers oozing with sewage,an horrific panorama,suggestive of a painting by Dutch artist Hieronymus Bosch.Meanwhile humanity sinks into a deep bottomless pit of abject black despair. A political landscape,evolves, redolent of Orwell's 1984,Huxley's Brave New World,with a bit of Kafka's The Trial,thrown in for good measure.A dystopian Hell from which there's no escape,save for a KT style extinction event,in which the human race is destroyed in one vast cataclysmic and cleansing fireball. Now you don't want that do you?
Most of you are oblivious to your fate.You're like the man on the cover of a 1970s album by Supertramp.He sunbathes in a deckchair beside his swimming pool with a cocktail in one hand and a joint in the other.In the distance,beyond the walls of his luxury mansion,there exists a desolate,squalid wasteland,where anarchy, violence and murder abound. Uncollected rubbish piles up in the streets,with vermin flourishing amidst the urban decay.In the distance,an atomic bomb explodes,its characteristic mushroom cloud ascending into the stratosphere.The menacing black clouds of an impending nuclear winter disperse across the sky,blotting out the sun.The man in the deckchair yawns,takes another sip of his cocktail,and asks: "crisis,what crisis?".