All those ones live in those great big piecrust mock-Two-door houses with His and Hers Caddies parked out by the hydrangea bushes.
Amusement relaxes the mind.
All of her attention is focused on surveying the rippled surface of my sturdy, pileous torso. I encourage her by stroking down her hair.
Whether modern, industrial man is less or more warlike than his hunter-gatherer ancestors is impossible to determine. The machine gun is so much more lethal than the bow and arrow that comparisons are meaningless.
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