You came to my house in your nicely tailored, expensive dress clothes. You always look good in a suit. We drink cheap mexican beer and whiskey sours, and decide to go to the beach. We pick up your motorcycle, change out of nice clothes into our badass leather jackets and boots and gloves, and roar down the pacific coast highway. I am stricken by
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Where the fuck have you been, buddy? I miss you!
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Call me sometime.
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