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Blogger I Am Woody said...

Sounds logical to me!

October 18, 2009 at 1:15 PM

Blogger jendoop said...

I remember the first time I went fishing on a ranch. My cousins and I loaded in the truck and then I noticed there were no fishing poles. This city girl was treated to the same type of fishing Desert Boy tried. Well, mostly I stood back and watched as they caught enough fish for dinner. The creek was drying up and had left a bunch of fish trapped in a giant puddle.

October 18, 2009 at 5:58 PM

Blogger Dessert Survivor said...

Your story suggests that our predator genes start manifesting themselves at 2.

October 18, 2009 at 6:13 PM

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