It's a "stop, stop, stop all the dancing, give me time to breathe" kind of Saturday morning, at least in my head; but in the real world, the dancing is not only going on, The Tramps are here in my living room singing, "Disco Inferno" at decibels rivaling a jet engine and my ass and feet are doing their best to get along little doggie and move along
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If this fails, cruise the clergy, its whacked but passes the time.
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