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I’m Bigfoot on the moon, and I’m riding a harpoon, but there is no moon, nor a harpoon, so I’m singing the wrong tune.
I wish to inform you that limerick was painful, like fingernails on a chalkboard, to read by my inner voice. Hats off to you; well schemed.
No shadow! It’s faked! :)
Shit what’s happening on earth?!
