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I want a mimosa. A blood orange mimosa.
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I spent my whole day on the college and then I worked until midnight and now listening to Vivaldi
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So, my old neighbor died a little while back, and then his son (also old) moved into his house. We both smoke cigs so we've had some backyard conversations and we're cool, then today he needed a bike pump so I let him use mine. We had this long conversation about old school country and next thing you know I'm drinking a beer with him in his house and he's a fellow Steel Reserve drinker. I guess I now have an elderly drinking buddy.
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They're the best kind! I miss mine; he'd sit in his yard in a three piece suit at night (he had dementia) and remind me during every conversation that he was, in fact, the "Real John Wayne" (it was in fact his real, legal name)
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After two ****-****ing months on crutches, I can finally stop using them. Still in a walking boot for a while but life just got a lot easier.
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