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Anonymous File :-(, x)
When my father immigrated from /b/ to here with a pocket full of seeds and the will to work, he came with a dream.
A dream that one day, he would have a farm of his own... A dream that he would sit outside on his porch one summer afternoon, iced tea in hand, and watch as the warm sun washed down atop of a fresh crop of sophisticated and elegant lady pictures. Pictures that were his /own/, grown by his own hand.
Don't let my father's dream die, /e/.
HELP THE DREAM LIVE ON!
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