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There once was a man named Sprockett
Who walked with his hand in his pocket
He was able to hide
What he was doing inside
Till he shot off like a Fourth of July rocket.

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"Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy" ~Anaïs Nin


"The full moon is calling, the fever is high.
And the wicked wind whispers and moans.
You got your demons, you got desires
Well, I got a few of my own"
~The Eagles