COLD FLOOR IN THE MORNING....
Love is like a snowmobile, racing across the frozen tundra. Suddenly, it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.
I REJECT YOUR REALITY AND SUBSTITUTE MY OWN
I suspect foul play here.
Whoa!! Lost control of my rudder for a minute
DO A BARREL ROLL
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The Very Best
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