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So...you wake up one morning and realize that you are where you are. And you decide that this beats the hell out of working for a bipolar boss who was always trying to figure out exactly how to buy her meds over the internet.
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Well, I finally was able to get through your posts. It is after 2pm. I have had a grumpy time of it. And, I feel tired. So, from the paragraph below--
"There was a blues band, a moon bounce, a popcorn machine and a pit for making s'mores. Guests feasted on hot dogs, hamburgers and bratwurst. There was plenty of ginger ale, cranberry juice and root beer to go around. What there wasn't plenty of was alcohol."
I guess so tired that I thought that it read "a unicorn machine and a pit for making whores."
God help me, please.
And, it did end up sounding like a sweet party. Damn police!
Hey, the idea of anything being made out of a pit is not too appealing. Whores. S'mores.
Teenagers!!::))
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