Merci, Sumatra. For air as fresh as 7-Eleven sandwiches or canned coffee. Legend says the trolls build a campfire that blazes and lasts as long as the Olympic flame every year. The olfactory critters suggest otherwise. They are determined to make me believe that the sons of Muspell have arrived in the neck of the woodless woods. I pretend that I am in the pretend Smoky Mountains with the pet snake and salvage, writing Sanskrit texts.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Jun 2013 21:47:17 +0000
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