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well fuck, spent a few too many hours of my life making out with my half sister...
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Mercedes Benz SLR McClaren. We've gone over this.
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yes, I'm old enough where kissing isn't a huge deal, bruh.
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my pituitary gland
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no idea anymore. My knees and spine have been utterly defeated, so I couldn't tell you. I used to be able to, however, run a 6:45-7 minute mile, and my fastest was 6:37.
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eyes, ears, and arms. Given the provided limitations, those are the most important 3 things, in that order. #4 would've been legs.
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tell those nigs to get their own shoes
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not that often. I know it's time when I injure myself or someone else with them.
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my ability to emotionally detatch myself from any situation in order to better understand it and to better solve any given scenario.
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tie between dozens of different moments with Freckles, honestly. I screwed up way too many times, even the better parts.
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the blood of my enemies. And occasionally a strawberry Yoohoo
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I have many ideas, but it'd take a fuckin 8 page paper to explain it all. Not about to do that right now.
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can I at least get off by other means? With the help of other people? Or no release whatsoever? If no release whatsoever, no deal, otherwise I'd be fine.
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megaphone. I'd barge into restaurants while people are on their valentine dates and use the megaphone to yell "ayo gurl u tryna fuck?!"
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uh I can think of a few hundred reasons why
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Dead Leaves. I've never seen anything so plotless.
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depends on what kinda saving you needed. I'm not a one trick pony.
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