beretta xtrema review

Tonight Iapos;m tired.� Tired of waiting and running.� Life is too short.

I want to take my heart and cut it out.

And mail it to Tyler.

Or draw it on a piece of paper.

Something bordering on the grotesque side of sentimental.

Off to find a middle ground.� Something that will shock less.

In my head Iapos;ll be cutting my heart out.� And emailing it.� Ones and zeroes.� A crack in the ribcage.� An aorta.

Chambers.

And the fat that must be clogging up my remaining minutes.
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