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a brash newcomer has one too many whiskies at the saloon. a little too loudly, he proclaims that ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny. the room goes dead silent. "them's fighting words, mister," says a grizzled old-timer from beneath a ten-gallon hat. there is a series of ominous *thunks* as biology textbooks are whipped out and slapped onto tabletops.
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# ¿ Feb 28, 2021 22:10 |
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# ¿ May 16, 2024 16:34 |
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I reckon ol' landbiscuit here is gettin' past his prime. just can't see him hackin' it at this year's races. well landbiscuit ol' boy *affectionate scratch* it's about time you were set out for stud, what do you think about that? *landbiscuit continues gliding slowly towards a nearby blade of grass, leaving a glistening trail*
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# ¿ Mar 1, 2021 00:28 |