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| quote: | Originally posted by Q5echo
figure this place is somewhere between here...
and here..... |
Could be worse, I suppose:












Ahh, the faces only their mothers and nutbag followers could love.
But hey, each to his own, right?
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Whence September dusk grows crisper still,
with leaves all crimson conquered,
I yearn to shout,
and dance about,
and stick pickles in my honker...
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