Okay, last poll about this, I promise, and please boost this one as well.

Dogs are allowed on the bed.

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IMAGINE THIS! You're a billionaire, you have a penis-shaped rocket and you're going to space. What 2 to 3 songs are going to be on your "I'm fucking rich and I'm one of the first people out here. I could be the first person to listen to ____ in space" playlist?
Send them to me
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Here are the rules: misandry.city/@MastoSourcedPla

Dogs are allowed in the bed.
(Please boost, I want to see if my perception is correct or not)

I need 45 more followers until I've finally reached satan numbers.
Anyway, this is what I read as a child in Germany and I'm sure someone on this platform will appreciate it.


I imagine the show does the paperwork for them, so maybe it's not a bad idea...

If you want to relive the glory days of extremely shitty graphics and terribly basic gameplay exemplified by sports video games from 1998-2003, may I recommend the Extremely detailed, unnecessarily complex online multiplayer Free to Play dynamo, Fishing Planet (2015).

AWS referring to On-Prem networks as "Private Clouds" is some galaxy brain shit.

The wildcards are the Brown-Headed Cowbirds. Whose side are they on? They don't seem bothered by the presence of other birds, and they don't seem to mind sharing the feeder with the chipmunks. They don't take shit from the Jays, but neither do they go on the offensive.
No, they're playing a different game.
I think they have an uneasy alliance with the Sparrows.

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What neither of them know is that while they were dealing with each other, the chipmunk was already literally *inside* the bird feeder, stuffing its pouches to the brim with ill-gotten gains. Like a fucking *Ninja* it darts to and fro, completely unnoticed by the idiot birds.

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The Bluejays seem to have the obvious advantage - they're smarter and far more aggressive than their opponents, but the real strength of the Mourning Dove is that it's dumb as shit and while under direct attack from the Jays, just fucking *stares* at them placidly, as if to say, "What are you going to do, stab me?" And then the Bluejay stabs them.

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Deeply invested in the absolute *drama* of the turf war occuring between the Bluejays, Mourning Doves, and Chipmunks at my bird feeder.



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