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It was only in my 50's after her death - as the metaphorical sun began to cast a twilight on my years - that I drunkenly agreed to perform the art on my sister-in-law in a cathartic experiment to reconcile my grief. And an art it was! Like a painter with his brush, the expressionable movements I made with my tongue upon the canvas of the chocolate starfish created movements of intense passion in the regular soul of my wife's sister. She later confessed the changes in her daily perception since that fateful night.
I took to eating ass like a fish to water, and now I must swim as much I can before I meet my death.
DONT YOU CRY NO MORE
instant +rep.