Oh to rain. That is not elastic. Oh to the trite age and it is here for maybe a year then washed away into lint. It is nice and quite before the strong. I can see it though, the knitting woman darkening and ready to shoot out lightning. she will be caught off gaurd. She can't predict the future, but I have my hunches that sex in America will change dramatically. I only hope that it doesn't happen within my pants.
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