It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. “I want to be your friend,” he said. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind. “I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 17-09-2024 15:45:21
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