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I think I'd like to hook up with Ole Prem at one of them Oz campouts. You know, spitting in the fire, drinking cognac, whoofin' down the 'boros by the pack, eating dead animals, the whole shebang gettin' down and funky with the spunky monkey gooroo dude.Maybe our pal Prem would even show us a little of that fancy footwork of his, with or without mala. And--grab your inseam and shake it twice--maybe he'd consent to recitin' a piece or two of that inspiring poetry he himself has written. I heard you get him on the level playing ground, why, he's just a regular guy (except for that poetry stuff, that's a little nancy.) Even changes his own oil sometimes! I just know we'd get along fine.
Modified by gerry at Tue, Dec 07, 2004, 14:07:20
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