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January 24, 2017 / barton smock

cry shape

it comes up in conversation how his dogs, blowjob and retard, were killed during a bout of baby-proofing. biters both; like mirror their mother. she is only god in that we sent her a son. he says this, and also this: the act of swimming is a creature that comes to my knees. we bring him the raccoon. no raccoon, no moon.

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