On the twelfth day of Christmas, Bilbo gave to me, 12 lines of poetry, eleven worn dwarven maps, ten serving animals, nine Old Winyards, eight pocket-handkercheifs, seven leaves of Toby, six hobbit cheeseballs, five old settees, four old umbrellas, three silver spoons, two hours til teatime, and an insulting speech under a tree.
There. Now we can do another one. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] But I won't presume to pick the subject. [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]
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So, where are we going?
But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. 1 Timothy 6:2
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