You love the beard. Reminds you of me. Don't lie. You love my bearded clam. P.S. He's too old for you. You're just a young buck. Come to my stable. I've been trying since 1998. But you won't have none of it. You want to eat grass in the pasture, by the rotting horses and the pungent almost dead ones that the vultures eye curiously from the tree line, waiting. You want the dirty hairy rust-colored Cuban horses with the vague smell of meatloaf emanating from their ugly coats. I'm a shiny fucking pony and you won't NONE of it. I think you've gone too far. I can't stand by forever, you know. I've got a life to lead. Take it or leave it honey, this trains leaving the station.
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;). it is sooooo damn hot. GAH
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