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Originally Posted by DAVEC-NITRO-RS4
Yeah that was a tough street we lived on. And that puppy you had when you were young. Really a rat. You sister, well, we don't talk about your sister. And as for the "chicken" we ate for meals three times a day. Well, let's just say it wasn't a chicken in the genetic "chicken" sense of the word, but it was closely linked to a chicken, we were told. You seemed to like it, though. And do you remember the name of that psycho that lived across the street, Dave something...??? God, I hope you never bump into him again...
Have a safe Valentines Day,
Mom
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It was Dave C. I found out later that he had gone partially bald, and liked to touch little boys! He was a psycho!
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.