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  1. ::clearing my throat for my daily serenade to Cobble::

    ahem….

    A little Dan Fogelberg?

    “Met my old lover in the grocery store
    The snow was falling christmas eve
    I stole behind her in the frozen foods
    And I touched her on the sleeve

    She didnt recognize the face at first
    But then her eyes flew open wide
    She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
    And we laughed until we cried.

    We took her groceries to the checkout stand
    The food was totalled up and bagged
    We stood there lost in our embarrassment
    As the conversation dragged.

    We went to have ourselves a drink or two
    But couldnt find an open bar
    We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
    And we drank it in her car.

    We drank a toast to innocence
    We drank a toast to now
    And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
    But neither one knew how.”

  2. THL…I’ll take that when I get home. It won’t open here. There is no doubt in my mind that I rank highly as a sexual addict. So, there’s no sense in being anonymous about it; although, anonymous sex is the biggest kick for a sexual addict.

  3. You sing away Snappy!

    No wacky tabacky for this white girl — although I do like the smell of it. [See past OT where What pretends to have vaguely heard of pot, and CH admits to actually inhaling — in the waaay distant past!]

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