Happy birthday, Ryan! Now come with me.
Our lit'ral wet dream begins in 2004. The Notebook. You're in a creepy-ass old house that was definitely haunted. It doesn't matter. Your loins. They are awakened. You are alive.
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That beard. That hair. That rain. That sweet, sweet pure sex.
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Those arms. His hands. The sweat. That fact that he's about to get it in.
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Ooooof.
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