I learn't that you can't influence people's lives too much. Usually you have to do this by limiting their choices.
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Th urblisher was sitting at the table in the tent, the
ivory abode, the currency, the spot upstairs,
whom had drummed at a racey 80 miles per hour to
The Tacky Mackingtosh.
From the satire, (tellin a lot of honest lies that are
self aware and introspectively critical)
to the parlor made of sand with
draughts of common knowledge, remaining still over-night,
(here and at the abode).
She wants to know about his methods of getting to sleep.
They dont have to talk about bleeding-eye ideas, but they do
he smokes a roll up
and sounders into the road to taste the whisky on the exhausts.
Hes down in cords, down fine, drinking silence until she coughs