All the rabble rousers have been stuffed into their fuzzy wuzzys and shipped off (rather unwillingly) to their own personal utopias. "What dreams may come..?".....none can know save the dreamers, who, for lack of "shuffling off (of) their mortal coil", will rise, as per usual, demanding of ME long tics of toast, eggs, fruits of every imaginable shape and size, and a salad, with "a...
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So, how are you today?
Mind you, any gal called 'mistress' can't be too bad...
but... get some pictures up! i dont like having people on my friend list when i don't know what they look like...