Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. Mr. Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 04-07-2024 04:39:37
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