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fat lip, fat girl thong, low fat cooking, sexy bbw, chubby man, shower, fat burning food, large cunt, food that burn fat, fat woman sex, fat joe, big fat ass, fat loss supplement, free plumper nude, Give me a little slack, won't you?  We're off to New York in the morning, so this is it, I'm afraid, until Tuesday. Have a great weekend. September 29, 2004 I don't have much time this morning, so this big breasts is going big breasts to be half-assed, at best. Perhaps even quarter-assed. Please know that up front. And if you'd like your money back, just see the cashier. -- It rained all day yesterday, just a constant downpour from before I got out of big breasts bed in the morning until after I crawled back in last night. I had visions of Poppa Half-Shirt's stamp collection (or whatever) caught up in a furious whirlpool in the middle of his family room, along with a few throw pillows and Niagara Falls nick-nacks, and I started getting nervous. I envisioned his crazy-ass Teresa Heinz Kerry wife pushing pins into a crudely-fashioned Jeff Kay voodoo doll and vowing revenge through a contorted mask of rage. Shit! Wonder if he's over there right now, I thought, consulting with one of those lawyers off the back of the phone book?
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Fox food that burn fat Movie Channel played it one night at 2AM several weeks ago, and I fired up the trusty DVR and captured it. And all I can say is, if they showed kids today some shit like that, they’d have to bring in grief counselors to help them cope… CNN would be there… lawsuits would be launched… people would be doing handsprings... How did they get away with something like that, even back in the seventies? Sweet sainted mother of Yahoo Serious! I'm forty-one, and I experienced a full-body shiver watching the scene where the woman food that burn fat wished her dead husband alive again -- and her wish was granted, even though he was loaded up with embalming fluid. Shit! And then when she started chopping him up in the casket... They showed that in school, to seventh graders?? If I didn't honestly think it was kinda cool, I might be tempted to climb atop some retroactive high horse. I really would. -- And that's about all I can muster, under the circumstances. But I'm typing between whiny phone calls, and the reading of follow-up e-mails to confirm said whiny phone calls, trips to the vending machine for sacks of TGI Friday's Potato Skin Chips, and the guzzling of Mountain Dew Laughing Death Mask.
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