Your Comments: WE GET BURNED? - Funhaus Comments #70
It's summertime. You're strolling down a quiet suburban street when you come across a beautifully manicured lawn. It's just laying there, soft and fragrant, begging you to dive in. You run a hand through the feather-soft blades, the slightest hint of moisture kisses your fingers. Finally you submit, sprawling unashamedly across its pillowy expanse. Are you there? That lawn is the internet. And this show is the bitter, empty old man screaming at you to get off of it.
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