We are but a handful of dust, each grain a year of our lives. No, not of our lives, but of our youth. To which we forget. And yet, only remember as th... best. To the very contradictory paradox of death. And when we forget ourselves, and meld to another. The precise moment of contact and bond, to where we realize the other is there. Not because we have to be, but by the very essence of free will. Such a thing that can only flow and survive in such an environment. Like the energy in every corner. " Is this a white woman?" Yes, a lovely beautiful flower with large bosoms. She has only been with child once. Here is her picture. Have I not accurately described the woman for you?"Benny, who is usually Mr. Cool, expelled his breath. "Wow, she is some looker. How will you get her under control?" She is traveling with a woman who will see to it that she drinks and is given something that will make her very easy to direct." Can you have her brought to 15789 Eagle Way, on the West side of. More

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