I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. "This gentleman brings us tidings of an old friend, my dear," said the carpenter. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. "You shall never behold me alive.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 28-05-2024 06:46:16
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