I love summer. Not because the sun shines 90 straight days. (Besides, on the Oregon coast, it doesn't). I still love summer. But not because the tourists flock to the coast and spend lots of money. And not because the flowers are in bloom and my yard is filled with color. Still, I love summer. Not because the sky is blue more often than gray, or because it's warm enough to sleep without wearing flannel pajamas (for a few weeks).
No, I love summer because my Magic-Sculpt dries in only a couple of hours. Is that sick or what?
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