mercredi 21 octobre 2015

Dusty

I love going out to dinner with my family, I always have since I was very young. When my father gets to talking at the dinner table he always brings up stories from when my sister and myself were children, far before we could have any conscious memories of anything other than huge life changing events. These stories always somehow involved how hilarious we were as children. He would tell tales of
Dusty

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