Today, as I was roping red beards like cattle with my sustainable hemp fiber lasso, I saw Zane and Blaine playing adult mid-week mid-day hide and seek in an abandoned warehouse on a gritty, urban street in Bushwick. So I went in, welded the doors shut and beat them into the consistency of Brooklyn-based artisanal farmer’s market raspberry marmalade with my trusty Louisville Slugger. End of story.
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