Oh you. I miss you, I feel like the little lady (oh ha ha ha) and the big bad phone mocks me, overpowers me. Little in cost. Little is how I feel when you're far away. But my phone won't ring, not from Vista Lake. Not from way way way up there by the Red Green show's Possum Lodge. Or Grand Marais. I send you a psychic phone call by the light of the moon. Or a cigar shaped space ship. A cigare volante. Stay warm and I miss you.
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