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length as a measure of age.
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| at least im longer than the tulip garden. | |
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| now... i know that I left that strip joint around here somewhere. | |
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age redefines the wiretap concensus.
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| suddenly, the minutia of infinite distance lays itself before my feet. | |
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the invention of the prop-plane destroys the careful balance. age is indignant.
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| you span a distance i can barely comprehend. may i touch you? | |
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| what are you doing with my strip joint? | |
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