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Ideas neatly folded in six inch squares or lying on the grimy floor covered in beer mud and regret.. poetry that inspires a dull throbbing pain in the center of the forehead. circular reasoning and deep insight. My only contact with the outside world. a panopticon.
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Come on now - I thought you were prepared for that. No, not the snow - the kids. Sorry to hear that you're not having fun - I'm sure the wife is having a ball. Enjoy the snow.
No sign of your cat. Wife and 2 of 3 kids were sick yesterday. I'm afraid I haven't been the friend to Goldie that I wanted to be. She's still got food and water, though, and no one has robbed you blind.
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