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Aug 21, 2010
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Man: Up is the surf, young seahorse! Zonker: And yet it no longer calls to me, master. Man: Uh-oh... Your gaze is wistful today, waterpup. Your thoughts are elsewhere, I sense! Zonker: They are, master. I dream of Oakland. Man: Oakland? What spell could Oakland cast over a son of Malibu? Zonker: They City Council has voted to allow the licensing of marijuana farms, master... for years, I have yearned to openly cultivate cannabis. It is my quest, my field of dreams! But I have not the boundless energy of my youth, and the journey is long. Man: Long? How long? Zonker: To Oakland? Five, six hours. Plus traffic. Man: Then heed me, muskrat! Tool on up the coast you must at night!
Aug 23, 2010
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