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There’s some twat on the street below my apartment, dressed in a black leather trenchcoat and black leather hat, blasting “Say Hello” by April Wine out of his giant black pickup truck. It’s loud enough that I can hear it through my double-windows, over the TV, and he’s been thoughtful enough to leave the doors open so we can all enjoy it.

Five more minutes, I’m gonna start chuckin’ eggs.

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