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| Woodrow, I'm leaving you. | |
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| You're too good for me. You deserve better than a blind woman who works at Burger Shack. | |
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| You're right. I should have higher standards. You're lucky to have experienced my tender loving. | |
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| And, God help me, but you do smell like elephant dung. | |
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| What, no farewell blow job? | |
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