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i'll be retiring to my palatial estate in the hamptons for a fortnight--paid for in full by the disposable income of the international jetset elite and the hipsters whose pocketbooks they love to exploit.
as my man-servant warms my feet between the cheeks of his moist, warm ass and my chauffer rests his head on a bale of hay out in the barn, a meal of the livers of poor, inner-city youth and tongues of the useless geriatric awaits me in the great-hall.
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