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What the fuck else is there to do in Nantucket?
Well, according to the rhymes then…
Well, according to the poem, if a certain part of your anatomy is long enough, you could suck it.
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who swore he could handle the bucket.
White lines led the way
Till his pulse slipped away,
Now the docks keep the secret he plucked it.
This is beautiful.
