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The rich bloodsuckers don’t want to pay taxes. Too bad, so sad. They’re the least of my problems right now. At the wise suggestion of my beloved mate, I indulge in a little retail therapy so I don’t dismember the pissed off crew of greedy Vamps who don’t want to pay their fair share. How could a trip to the happiest place on earth aka Target go wrong? Let me count the ways… Martha and Jane want to ride in the cart.
Vinnie convinces me to buy chicken potholders because everyone needs poultry inspired oven mitts.
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