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What? You want to borrow my track pants?
You’re my son’s best friend. you asked me if you could borrow or buy my track pants so you could wear them to a 90’s themed party. you don’t want me to tell your ma. i’m alone, or so i think so, i call your ma to tell her everything. my belly hurts. i let out some nasty farts. for some reason my farts don’t smell. the reason is because you’ve shrunken and i’ve been smothering you with my farts and you’ve acted as a filter.
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