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Ain't nothin' that gets the ol' predatory blood flowin' as much'z a pride'a snipe barin' those nasty lookin' teeth n' howlin' at the fall moon.
A vanishin' manly art is the good ol' snipe hunt.
Lookin' forward to your report Bob. Jus' be careful out there, 'kay?
(But, look . . . if you godda call in an air-strike . . you shouldn't be out there in the first place.)
Be well.
Java
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In life-long pursuit of that most mythic of beasts: the ever-elusive perfect corner. Well . . . that, r' at least a whole lodda clear spin-out room.
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