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October 21, 2009 - 12:52 I get fixated on word plays as I'm falling asleep, last night: "Paul's Epistle, meet my pistol." Maybe that's not technically a word play, but more of a dirty limerick. Anyhow, it's just a thought. I probably won't get one (especially since I'm poor right now). I think Liesel's getting fat from depression. Or the weird dehydrated fruit in her feed.
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