mnottertail
Posts: 60698
Joined: 11/3/2004 Status: offline
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I saw her once, laying in an unfeeling frozen ditch along a lonely rural gravel road, snowflakes falling, reaching out her hand in the frigid and empty air, with unseeing eyes, her final desperate moments at hand, a hoarse utterance escaping from her dying lips, simply: my little rosebud----I will always love you, and I want you to move on . . . Or it might have been buttwhip. I was traveling at a pretty good clip, could have misunderstood it.
< Message edited by mnottertail -- 9/7/2012 12:28:52 PM >
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Have they not divided the prey; to every man a damsel or two? Judges 5:30
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