I chased a beaver with a stick because he was attacking a tree with the spirit of my favorite French satirist, Jean Barbier d'Aucour (whose body was flown here tied to three giant hawks).
Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudez, I no can focus! I was going to write something here but then I was sidetracked by a squirrel with his cheeks puffed out. Either he ate something he was allergic to or else he was preparing for winter. Usually squirrels are incredibly lazy and make the chipmunks do all the work only to mug them later. This one was being "industrious" I suppose.
Baby, you can't taste racism.
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