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Well boys and girls, you know what tomorrow is, the first day of fall. And you know what this means? No more short skirts
I don't know about you, but I can think of nothing sexier than a comely young lady who wraps her nether region in a piece of fabric that comes just about mid-thigh...if not higher. And it just uber-sexy when they have that little slit up the side. Oh man, just thinking about it now creates a tingle in my naughty bits. I am going to miss the women walking around work in those things. A low cut sweater is nice, but nothing compared to a tight little booty hugger.
On a completely separate topic, I love Skittles
<div align="center"> ![[Image: post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg]](http://www.cdih.net/non-cgi/uploads/post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg) </div>
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Your pocket Bible will stop an assailant's bullet, but not before it passes through four innocent bystanders, a school-bus gas tank, and your genitals.
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this summer wasnt even a summer - we hardly had any real hot weather, and it flew by way too fast.
Skittles are really good.
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I love fall. I'm gonna carve pumpkins.
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Quote:I'm gonna carve pumpkins.
code for lipo your calves?
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If they even think of pulling that M&M's crap and start fiddling with the colors of my Skittles, the roads will flow red with blood. You hear me, red with blood!
<div align="center"> ![[Image: post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg]](http://www.cdih.net/non-cgi/uploads/post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg) </div>
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Your pocket Bible will stop an assailant's bullet, but not before it passes through four innocent bystanders, a school-bus gas tank, and your genitals.
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Skittles are addictive.
Now I wish for Tang skittles.
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The thought of contaminating the pure goodness of Skittles with your Tang is heresy. You must pay
Allah o akbar!
<div align="center"> ![[Image: post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg]](http://www.cdih.net/non-cgi/uploads/post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg) </div>
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Your pocket Bible will stop an assailant's bullet, but not before it passes through four innocent bystanders, a school-bus gas tank, and your genitals.
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carving pumpkins is nasty.
pumpkin pie is amazing.
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It smells great, pumpkin-carving. Reminds me of 6th grade. Life was simpler then, alas
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When I think of 6th grade, I'm reminded of the time that kid puked in class and the janitor came in and put sawdust on it. Ah, the good ol' days
<div align="center"> ![[Image: post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg]](http://www.cdih.net/non-cgi/uploads/post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg) </div>
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Your pocket Bible will stop an assailant's bullet, but not before it passes through four innocent bystanders, a school-bus gas tank, and your genitals.
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I hated pukers. The smell of vomit is a terrifying thing for some reason. To witness it is worse.
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But you add the smell of sawdust and hilarity ensues
<div align="center"> ![[Image: post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg]](http://www.cdih.net/non-cgi/uploads/post-13-23459-Earl2.jpg) </div>
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Your pocket Bible will stop an assailant's bullet, but not before it passes through four innocent bystanders, a school-bus gas tank, and your genitals.
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Sadly, I cannot agree. I may have a puke phobia.
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doc is my new favorite erotic writer.
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6th grade was the worst.
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I'll miss belly shirts and tank tops. Sigh....
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I wonder how much more awful puke would smell if you add tang to it?
then again, the puke would only improve the taste of the tang...
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dark dark Galt secret:
below
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||<table style=filter:flipV>^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^</table>
I was bullied so much in 6th grade that I switched classes halfway through the year. For some reason, when I started 6th grade I ended up in the self-contained class. You know. The one down near the boiler room in the basement? I don't know why, I got all As and Bs when I was in 5th grade. To this day, I think it was a mix-up. So anyway. I ended up in class with all these morons and thugs (the sixth grade kind: they smoke cigarrettes and their parents were divorced). This one kid took a severe disliking to me, and eventually the entire class would just harrass me and threaten to beat my ass every single day. I didn't want to complain and be a pussy, but I wasn't about to fight one of them and have the entire class jump in. I called the head bully at his house and told him I'd meet him in 20 minutes one weekend and he never showed up. It ended up getting so bad that I had severe stomach pains for like three weeks straight, and missed about two weeks of school. During that time, my hysterical mother made them change my class to a different teacher on a different floor, with different lunch periods and different recess periods.
I was still a bit shell shocked, and became quite shy for a while. Slowly but surely, I came out of my shell and am now completely cured. I don't remember exactly what happened to the head bully, but I'm pretty sure his parents got divorced and one of his brothers may have died. So, all in all, I have no regrets.
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The seasons mean nothing to me.
<center> ![[Image: cdih3.jpg]](http://www.photobucket.com/albums/1003/silera/cdih3.jpg)
...like that cut on the roof of your mouth
that would go away if you'd stop tonguing it,
but you can't.</center>
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