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paste!
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you can't force them out of my swamp. try try take a hammer. eat pasta. get the clouds in a trembling vivisection and take the residue for some sort of alignment or oil change forklift-symblom. simple you think it's the grayness but you left out the horsepower in region unpronouncable. pronoun cable. good shit for the kids. teach them to read at an earlier age then lead them into battle with earplugs. BUT GET BACK TO THE POINT, you said that the yamaha had bled itself out of commision and gave you a note saying no mas no mas. i have nothing to dampen your fuzz on this matter trumpet. this is TROUBL-L-Linus' gargantuan apricot salad fetish. yes, the goad remains--will not leave the swamp. none of them have umbrellas or dynamite so we'll shoot down their triumph one day at a time.
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