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Ah, I remember when I was a young'n  like Rack - I'd eat a blueberry in the morning and by nightfall I could bend over, drop trow and pick a squirrel off the outhouse at 45 paces. It was about 50/50 that I could get my gotch off before my rectal trigger let that blueberry rip - needless to say, at least 70 pairs of Levis and countless pairs of Fruit-of-the-Looms got shredded in the process. :prof:


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