This article is part of the Instruction for a Help series.
Congratulation! You have a fruit!
A fruit is not ready currently. You must prepare a fruit. The color of a fruit is green. The color of a fruit to taste great and put inside your body is red.
A fruit when green is furious.
You propose that? Not a good idea!
A green fruit become a food is bad. A fruit at green carries a vengeful riposte.
Do not bite. Get a pot.
A fruit is small when green. A pot is small.
To love a life a fruit needs earth. Take some up from your earth and give it to a pot.
Tenderly place a fruit on a side. The knife cuts deep. The sharper the edge, the less the pain.
Speak to a fruit within the trauma. "You are not all we need," tell a fruit. "We need the top only. I love you fruit. You will be happy. You will be happy."
The blade is through. The eyes of a fruit close and a tear comes. Do not cry, fruit. Say it.
"Do not cry, fruit."
All things in this world feel pain. A lobster, a fruit, a man, a cat, a pearl, a window, a kite. They suffer. You must respect them all. A man who brings pain wantonly brings that pain onto his own self times three.
"Shhhh," tell a fruit and lift it up in your soft hands.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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