One fellow I knew once was off his game the whole first half because some idiot was flying a kite over the field advertising some one's pills.
Not because it made his scar disappear, but because it eased it for a few moments. His cocky smile-smirk was a close second favorite.
These men know and respect the heavy iron fry-pan.
And he had always thought that a Palladian villa set in a verdant English park was a very beautiful sight. He saw it as the perfect marriage of a building with nature.
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