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I'd like to open an account http://9taxi.in.net/ taxi69  Two women were talking by the main entryway. Shirley, the older one, sat on her walker, while the younger, Diana, leaned against the wall. “We are living out in the boom-docks here,” Diana said, when I told her I was a reporter. Breakfast had just ended and a smell of syrup lingered in the air. “I been in this shelter three years, and I don’t care if I never see pancakes, French toast, or waffles again for the rest of my life,” she remarked. “I don’t even eat the breakfasts here no more. My stomach is too precious to me. And those artificial eggs—what do you call them—Egg Beaters.”
Daren 2019-08-21 17:40:54

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