Once I was walking down the hall in the office, back when Gooxanne still worked here. It was bizarre - I turned the corner down the hallway where the editors are, and it smelled like a bathroom! Like shit! Merde! Mierda! Horrid! Anyway, I walked into Gooxanne's office and, realizing the source of the foul odor, exclaimed, "Oh, this is where it's coming from." She turned bright red.
Mount Dora's most perfect (s)export: A sainted sciconoslastic beepster, born from the freak Florida snow, tempered through 10,000 perfumes and electrosplash soundscapes, who creates magic in his dazzle collider in a pumpkin-shaped igloo somewhere in the vicinity of Norwegenmark (Trailer Park)
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