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velvetgoldmire's random stream of consciousness

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If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a beaver who can't tie his own shoes. You can build a dam without going to Radio Shack or selling vital organs to criminals for gumball change, but when it comes to bending over, you just can't do it. And, people, that's really just sad. I mean, if I were to go back in time to when this great country was founded, and buffalo were allowed to have sex with 12-year olds, like god intended, then there wouldn't be this whole problem of short stack pancake eaters taking up my time with all of this useless shoelace knotting. It makes me wish I were someplace else. Some place where everybody knows my name, because we all only know how to speak one word, and we would all be named that one word. There's something comforting in that. Like a pair of slippers made out of useless beavers. OH! And muskrats too, or as the Aberiginese call them, Choopahs. And all of our feet would smell like dead animals, just like god intended. And if god didn't intend it, then why would he create people who can create gods who can create knives that can slaughter animals that are "defenseless" and "cute"? If the general public knew what these "harmless" creatures do with their lives, then there wouldn't be rights for them. Because having rights is not a right, but an ordained fact given to us by our Olympic Sledding team, who, in the year of our lunch, gave us the mighty beaver-eating buffalo shoe. And that's what it's all about. People living together, of all races, all beliefs, all sexes, in a world that is free of bigotry and pants. That is my dream, and I hope that the general populous isn't too closed-minded to see that it is the way it is supposed to be because if it weren't then things would be different for all of us, because it is who we are and what we do that makes the world so different from the way it wasn't meant to be. I love the way you loose your mind. Up in here. Up in here. And god bless America.

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