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Docking Havana tomorrow, we will be disposing of our Violet scented lozenges and taking on cigars and a new set of pistons, rods and bearings for our elderly generator, you know, the one Tmac sleeps alongside and polishes bits of whenever he is feeling masheen-soppy.
Tmac, you know what I mean.
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Buvez toujours, mourrez jamais.
Rabelais
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