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- Yo, man, is that you? - You know it, brother.
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That was my first year at the Spear.
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- Nice perm! - No. No. Au natural, my man.
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The follicles of youth.
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That afternoon, I fell in love with a biker named Rhonda,
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who gripped a cinder block between her tits.
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But why would she do that?
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Because she could, Crisco.
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She was an artist. You gonna tell her not to do it?
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Hey, Tracy, maybe I could give you like a massage, you know?
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Ah, I think I'm good.
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Yo, if you offerin' up massages, my bat wings are sore as hell.