No, I am not.
You?
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Neither. I’m not yet of age to be on the first round of recipients, I have no urgent medically or scientifically derived reason to go ahead of others, my general state of health is such that I can wait, and in my area, the percentage of needy persons having been served is far, far behind the eight ball as far as announced expectations are concerned.
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You’re grounding me? In my book, that means I’m not allowed to leave your bedroom until you say so. Yes ma’am. (Wink, wink.)
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There will be sandwiches, won’t there?
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Flirting it up with your ol’ buddy, I see.
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As I was a-walking one morning for pleasure
I spied a cowpuncher all riding along
His hat was throwed back and his spurs was a-jinglin'
As he approached me, he was singin' this song:
(Chorus:)
Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies
It's your misfortune and none of my own
Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies
You know that Wyoming will be your new home
Early in the spring, we round up the dogies
Mark 'em and brand 'em and bob off their tails
Drive up our horses, load up the chuck-wagon
Then throw the dogies out on the trail
(Chorus)
It's a-whoopin' and yellin' and a-drivin' them dogies
Oh, how I wish that you would go on
It's a-whoopin' and punchin' and go on little dogies
You know that Wyoming will be your new home
(Chorus)
Some boys goes up on the trail just for pleasure
But that's where they get it most awfully wrong
For you haven't an idea the trouble they give us
While we go driving them all along
(Chorus)
When the night comes, and we hold them on the bed-ground
These little dogies that roll on so slow
Round up the herd and cut out the strays
And roll the little dogies that never rolled before
(Chorus)
(Chorus)
(repeat last line of Chorus)
So it’s country song flirting. No less guilty.
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I know, huh?
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Lol!
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Sad but true.
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