Steaks From Sacred Cows, Cheap
. . . someone. . . anyone. . . as long as it's in the face.
You take that beret off that bastard right this instant! Put him in his quail hunting outfit with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his shotgun in the other and his poor friend, Judge What's His Name's face full of buckshot. But do not soil the image of Che.
Oh, Utah, you kids and your communist rebel phases...You'll grow out of it.;>)
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