OPINION: No sex please, we're farmers

One of my uncles actually began the family diaspora.
The useless git simply could not stand in the middle of a wheat, or for that matter barley or oat, crop without feeling seasick.

OPINION: No sex please, we're farmers OPINION: No sex please, we're farmers OPINION: No sex please, we're farmers OPINION: No sex please, we're farmers OPINION: No sex please, we're farmers

The slightest zephyr had the golden waves turning him green in the face.
In defence of our family farm, though, he could also get seasick just standing on the end of a jetty.

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