Sometimes, I feel like Michael Corleone:
"Every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in!"
Or like Hermione Granger:
"I'm not an owl!" (Oh, but aren't I?)
Or like Alan Shore:
"Puddles do not ask for why not. it is cheese, breath, and wind. It is cheese." (He's afflicted with Word Salad.)
Better go runnin' tomorrow, get those endorphins kicking. Good stuff, endorphins.
Night y'all, hoot hoot,
Archimedes
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