I painted a picture of you the other day. You were standing between two rows of a garden, the ground was a soft brown rug of earth beneath your feet, which were clad in light brown sandals. Your left hand was stretched out a bit to the side, and a petal of a pink rose was cradled between your thumb and index finger.
"Be careful not to let a thorn cut you!!" I said.
You strolled aimlessly over next to me and nonchalantly smiled. So I grabbed your hand and took you over to my corner of the yard, the corner with the tomato plants. I took you into the center of my patch of tomatoes, the best tomatoes, the small orange not yet completely ripe cherry tomato variety. We simultaneously pushed our faces in the plants and inhaled the most beautiful smell in the entire planet.
"Be careful not to let a thorn cut you!!" I said.
You strolled aimlessly over next to me and nonchalantly smiled. So I grabbed your hand and took you over to my corner of the yard, the corner with the tomato plants. I took you into the center of my patch of tomatoes, the best tomatoes, the small orange not yet completely ripe cherry tomato variety. We simultaneously pushed our faces in the plants and inhaled the most beautiful smell in the entire planet.
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McGuyver stoners!!!
[Edited on Apr 21, 2003]