I used to have an imaginary friend that was a little unconventional. I was two years old lucign with my family in the yukon and my friend didnt have an name that I recall I just referred to him as "my man friend". He was by all accounts a grizzled old prospector and had a bit of a foul mouth. One day all the towles in the hosue disappeared and my mom found then rolled into logs and stacked like firewood in my closet. When she asked me about it I apparently told her that my man friend told me we needed more firewood because it was gonna be a B#tch of a winter.
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