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#21 |
Senior Member
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: Western North Carolina
Posts: 5,865
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My math teacher was ancient and had an enormous front porch that hung down to her belly button. She would come in and sit down at the desk so that the desk supported the front porch. There they would sit for the remainder of the class. Her name is one of my passwords.
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A is for apple, green as the sky. Step on the gas, for tomorrow I die. Forget the brakes, they really don't work. The clutch always sticks, and starts with a jerk. My car grows red hair, and flies through the air. Driving's a blast, a blast from the past. |
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