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bill-swift - October 16, 2014
I believe Abigail Ratchford and I are now Pennsylvania common law husband and wife based solely on the number of times I've thought about her in a radiant manner while locked in a lavatory. I'm pretty sure that's how it works. Either way, we obviously have a special relationship where I cry myself to sleep each evening thinking about every inch of her curvaceous smoking hot body while she completely ignores me and forgets I exist. At least half of that isn't unlike most conventional marriages.
Abigail was tapped by the mysteriously creepy 138 bottled water folks to slink around the pool in a revealing swimsuit and pretend their water will give you a world class body and the attention of gentlemen oglers in every corner of this earth. I know it's expensive, but I doubt it's that magical. Still, if Abigail blew me a kiss and told me to buy twenty-dozen cases, I'd be right on that. I am weak in the knees as well as other parts before beautifully stacked women. Enjoy.
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