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| paste! |
when i go fishing, i go f-i-s-h-i-n-g, if you get my meaning. they say it's just plain roofless and open for eaves/ledge droppings, if not GPS tabasco bombings, which are bad news if you aren't familiar with it. what i'm trying to say here is nothing, as i am laminated by several plastic sheets borrowed from across the street: they were gardening and breaking the law, which is little more than taking in the breath of a scentless orangutan. i mean defenseless. |
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