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/> フ
| _ _|
/`ミ _x 彡
/ |
/ ヽ ノ
/ ̄| | | |
| ( ̄ヽ__ヽ_)_)
\二つ
😘
You'll never be the man your mother was!
😪
"I've seen the forgeries I've sent out."
-- John F. Haugh II (jfh@rpp386.Dallas.TX.US), about forging net news articles
😲
to see, hear, touch, and destroy everything in my path,
including beets, rutabagas, and most random vegetables, but excluding yams,
as I am absolutely terrified of yams...
Actually, I think my fear of yams began in my early youth, when many
of my young comrades pelted me with same for singing songs of far-off lands
and deep blue seas in a language closely resembling that of the common sow.
My psychosis was further impressed into my soul as I reached adolescence,
when, while skipping through a field of yams, light-heartedly tossing flowers
into the stratosphere, a great yam-picking machine tore through the fields,
pursuing me to the edge of the great plantation, where I escaped by diving
into a great dit