mike smith
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Did it just say "Grand Central Station", or "my aunt's constipation"?!
Sometimes you have to say something out loud to hear how crazy it sounds.
It's Thrakkorzog. Thrakkorzog. With a K.
So once again, we find that evil of the past seeps into the present like salad dressing through cheap wax paper, mixing memory and desire.
Fine, I'll set aside my feud with Raven Symone for one day, but she knows what she did.
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