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Posted: Sun Jul 02, 2006 11:17 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 02, 2006 11:20 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 02, 2006 11:21 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 1:18 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 6:13 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 6:52 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 9:53 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:00 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:05 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:07 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:10 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:13 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:17 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:18 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2006 10:23 am
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He stood up, taking another puff from his cigarette. He walks over to her, "And what sort of things, were these things? Unless they're personal?" Trying to take another puff, he realizes that it was down to the filter. He squeezes it inbetween his index finger and thumb. It becomes thinner, but llonger, and starts to turn grey-brown. Before long, it has turned into a small twig, we he drops on the ground. He pulls out his pack, and thinks before deciding, I don't need another one, just yet.
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