Christmas clean-up, last of that bunch.
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Fonzie, at the Dry Creek Saloon. This is criminal.
Around town. That's a real moontower.
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Jane is the same size as the raccoon that has been terrorizing the trash cans. We hope to have pics of me wearing that pelt this time next week.
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Ssams night. Kind of one of the best meals ever. Slab steak, whatever that is. I asked for hangar, butcher laughed and said cows only come with two of them. I thanked him for the beef lesson.
Heybale, Continental Club.
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New swing technique.
Dad's new commercials.
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