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No it doesn’t. It’ll go around anyway. We could easily do without a few sorts, I’d say.
Been tucking into the meat paste sandwiches?
I quite like it anyway. I’ll allow it.
I say. Willies and everything. Hallo, old scout.
From the Chattanooga Times Free Press
Do you live in a bedsit? Do they let you have a kettle?
I’d say he’s almost certainly some kind of axe murderer. I doubt you’ll even be able to have sex safely for weeks now in case you get speared from under the mattress like a teenaged summer camp in the woods sex kebab. Your only hope is to stay chaste and head for open ground, in the hope of stumbling on a friendly constable. But how do you know you’ll be able to trust the copper? It’s not Dixon of Dock Green out there anymore. It could be anyone. They’re all homicidal rapist maniacs, the lot of them.
What was that gloomy racket? What did you blush for?
You start and end your day with a shot of Jägermeister?
I suspect the recent increased use of the electromagnetic spectrum.
