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Get on the foghorn and say something to her like,
"Honey, baby, sweetiepie- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep with your mother. She doesn't blow like you, baby. C'mon out, and I'll treat you to a full course meal at the Dairy Queen."
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Four blessings upon my fellow planeteers: Older whiskey, younger women, faster horses, and more money.
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