Finding myself without a hair thingie this morning, I dug up this piece of recycled gift wrap.
A boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do.
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"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
2 comments:
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Yankee doodle dandy!
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