John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. Be a good wife to him. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails.
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This video was uploaded to live-sport.live on 03-07-2024 10:07:23
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