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| I used to graze in Montana, and the nitrates in the soil gave the grass a bitter taste. One day it was gone. I'd crossed over into Alberta! Mmm, mmm good. | |
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| On my migratory routes, I dread the taste of Raritan swampwater, and long for the cool, clean St. Lawrence. Maybe New Jersey and Quebec aren't fully representative of their nations, but Canada rocks. | |
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| I read about that poor English goat that got screwed and said, why couldn't it be me? Then the SPCA might find me a nice home in Canada where the littered tin cans taste better. | |
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| My life changed when I crossed the Pacific on a Chinese freighter. Vancouver shit is like none in the old country! | |
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| I was penned up in Brisbane till they transferred me to the Toronto Zoo. Let me tell you, that soil there tasted so good, I ate a tunnel out to freedom, and am now freely rampaging over lower Ontario. | |
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| CANADA. It's what's for dinner. | |
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