Mysterious cigarette spam

Alison sent me this weird spam she got:

I am a single serving friend. The continuation of our species matters more than you can imagine. It is the single most important thing we can do. I want you to hit me as hard as you can. I want you to hit me as hard as you.

Suddenly, he disappeared. I'd seen many of the same things I've seen before. He wanted to know more. I didn't have to say: can we change the meeting from 6 to 11? My kids have a music recital and I dont want to miss it for the world.

Don't do that, the cat pointed out. We're going to regret this, my friend said. My job was to apply the formula. Why do guys like you and me know what a duvet is?

This was a place without the internet, without email, without the rush of business meetings and untapped desires. That could well be the answer. But this was a long road, and should I walk down it, I might never come back. What is the answer? What are we going to do tonight? I asked.

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