Sleeping with my wife Part VII: The New Blood

March 1, 2011

Hello,
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?

I’ll give you a moment to recover from the vague Pink Floyd reference or the coughing fit caused by the dust of 10 straight days without a post. Go on take your time.

(Don’t take your time we haven’t got all day. I’m sure YOU should be working.)

(Slackers!)

As you know (from the title) it’s time for another installment of slepping with my wife. You also would see that I’m still awesome at making vague horror movie references!

No my wife is not Jason Voorhees.

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Today we return to the fertile ground that is my lovely wife. It’s her birthday tomorrow so wish her a happy birthday on twitter!

Last Friday night was a very weird night. I want you to know I resisted the urge to quote the Katy Perry song ‘Last Friday Night’ there.

It was hard though.

(That’s what she said!)

Swoon. So hot.

(Shut up)

Okay so last Friday (during the day) was mostly uneventful. I was mostly searching for jobs and battling the gloom bug. Around the time the wifey came home (about 4:45 or so) I decided I’d be taking a nap. That really turned out ugly and I slept essentially till 8. Grub and tv time followed.

The time came to get into bed.
(Bow chikka bow wow)

The wifey (as most usually) was asleep pretty much as soon as her head hit the pillow. I had a bit more trouble, which of course made sense. I after all did sleep like 4 hours during the afternoon. The only problem was I was VERY sleepy. I felt like I could sleep for days but sleep never came. I was a lump of wide awakeness on the bed. The kitties joined me but they too quickly went right to sleep.

I was alone.
All alone.
(You say awwww now.)
(Do it.)

I listened to sports radio. I got up and had some water. I tried my left side, I tried my right side. Nada. I got up and watched some bad TV and did a little bit o writing. A very little bit. I got back in bed. I was still just a lump of sleeplessness. Then as I tried to plunder dream land the wife sat up.

Then she got off the bed. She stood there for a split second and then began to chuckle.

Me: Something funny.
Her: Yeah.
(Chuckles.)
Me: Gonna share?

(Now she’s on the move. She went around the bed and stopped near the door. She laughs some more.)

Her: I can’t believe I forgot. So much to do. (Laughs.)
Me: What are you doing?
Her: I forgot about it.

(She goes out of the bedroom and looks back in. Then she slowly closes the door.)

Me (to one of our cats): Should I go get her Rasputin?
Rasputin: ….
Me: Good answer.

(About a minute or so later she came back in.)

Me: What were you doing?
Her: I don’t know…I thought….

Then she was in bed and back to sleep. I however didn’t sleep again until about 9 in the morning. She apparently had a dream that people from work were coming over and she forgot about it. She thought she needed to get busy cleaning because they’d be there soon.


New Poem: Blueberry Ale

November 2, 2010

Here is another poem. It is part of the book titled: Love is a Donkey. Now for some interaction (should you choose to accept your mission.) from you all. The poem is titled Blueberry Ale (right now) but the wifey thinks it should be titled “The Art of Giving Blow Jobs”. What say you dear reader? As always any comments appreciated.


After the third bottle the topic turned to sex.
This was usually the case but never with so many people
mulled and munched veggies. The party should’ve been over.
Rick finished off the hummus by himself. It was thick and homemade.
We found him on the toilet a joint in one hand and the other knuckle deep in the bowl.
“At least he’s not jacking off again” Johnny offered. He was right.


Two years from now he’d jump off a highway over pass.
His body smashed through the windshield of a brown Taurus.
He always had to take someone down with him. A pocket full of peach schnapps’
I got drunk at his funeral. “I always hated smooth tongued Johnny Ray.” I quipped
to the pretty girl at the bar. I undressed her with my eyes.
It turned out to be his sister.


At one point I must have met her. She may have even been at the party.
Pieces of poetry and scraps of art were thrown about.
It was the last of its kind. The only one where we were all friends and artists
If we had known that it may have changed things.
Of course in the end we’d still be high and debating the art of blow jobs.


Sleeping with my wife #2

October 4, 2010

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That’s right kiddies the ever popular* Sleeping with my wife segment is back. I planned on having a fun, cute or hilariously written intro for this but it’s not written yet.** So look for that in the future, when I’m not so lazy.***

You can always click here to read the one with the kung fu punch or we’ll just jump in it.

This happened at about 3:30 in the morning on a night were we actually went to bed about 11:30pm. I woke up to some heavy shifting next to me. I could feel her sitting up and looking around. She laughed. It wasn’t a creepy laugh (you’d think waking up to a laugh at 3 in the morning it would be) but instead almost a sweet one. It was a genuine giggle. It sounded happy. Usually when she talks or reacts in her sleep it’s not a happy thing. It usually involves whimpers. This was a giggle. I turned over to her laughing again and still looking around.

Me: Are you actually awake?
Her: It’s funny.
Me: What is?
Her: He’s funny over there.
Me: I don’t know what that means.

(She laughs again and says something I don’t catch.)

Me: Okay honey go back to sleep.

(She gets back under the covers and scoots towards me.0

Me: You’re not going to punch me again are you?

(She falls immediately back into sleep.)

*There is no actual proof that this segment is even remotely popular.
**I in fact did not plan it at all (but probably should write one)
***Do not hold your breath


The one with hipsters

September 22, 2010

This is a review of the Best Coast show.
I promise. Sort of.

Well you’ve probably read me enough to know what the case is. This is a review of the Clovers/Male Bonding/Best Coast show that took place at the Grog Shop last night.

Technically.

I was there. I will review it but really this is a show that will be discussed in terms of the things (read conversations) I heard. There are no pictures except for poorly drawn ones that I probably won’t post. Actually I lie there is this:

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The only picture I took last night. It is of Admiral Ackbar with Stiller #2. After the show sitting at the bar I pulled him out (and the Admiral Ackbar too—Heyooo!) and stood him on the bar. John K who enjoyed the sentiment made the “It’s a trap!” cup soon after.

I’m getting way ahead of myself.

Like that is the end of the night and I haven’t even discussed the beginning.

You know the sex that took place beforehand. I’m just kidding.

Or am I? No really I am

Or—I know I know shut up and get on with it before you all leave.

Hello?

Anylamejoke before the night could begin we had to move the car from where it was. As we walked over to it a lady in an overalls shorts combo thing stopped us.

Lady: I’m gonna keep it real. I just got out of the Cleveland Heights jail cell. I just want a few bucks so I can get a beer and a cigarette. I’m just keeping it real you know what I’m saying.

The wife gave her a buck. I think.

On our way to the Grog Shop this happened:
Girl 1: “Remember the time we stole that wheelchair?”
Girl 2: “Yeah that was when we were stalking Dennis Kucinich”

We met Pelvic Joann out front and before we could get an old black dude said “Hey how you doing?’

Old black dude: Can I sing something for you?
Me: I dunno can you? (I’m such a dick.)
Wife: No. (The whole time she never looked up from twitter on her phone.)

He proceeds to give a mumbled low (if not somewhat creative) rap about Halloween. We headed in and there were a few minutes before the first band (Clovers) was to take the stage. As the lovely ladies I was with ordered the drinks I listened to the crowd.

A digression: I never saw so many people holding PBRs before. It was like every other person had one. Also someone was drinking wine at the grog shop? Really?

Apparently I should have worn v neck whit tee’s and skinny jeans. This conversation actually took place.

Guy in trucker hat: Dude. What is this band again?
Hipster in skinny jeans: Best Coast.
Trucker hat: What kind of music?
Skinny jeans: Hipster rock/pop.
Trucker hat: What the fuck is hipster rock.
Skinny jeans: A normal rock or pop show but you know by hipsters.
Trucker hat: Why do I hang out with you?

Now normally I may have sympathized with the trucker hat dude except it was a Budweiser trucker hat and he kept lifting up his shirt (you know “nonchalantly”) when chicks passed. Oh and he tried this line on a chick who was trying to snap a pic of her friend and herself: “You’re too pretty for a picture like that. You need someone who can capture that beauty.”

Anylameguy Clovers had a long set for an opening act at the grog. They weren’t too bad either. They had some catchy stuff but nothing that stood out too much. Number one problem with them was never said one word to the audience—other than “thank you”—at the end.

The next band Male Bonding was billed as a punk band but really did not come off as all that punk. I kid you not skinny jeans also at one point called them “Hipster Punk.” I left his area then. They too were not bad but not really memorable either. They tried a little more stage presence but couldn’t muster much.

The crowd surged for Best Coast. They played their known stuff and mixed in other (not as good—too harsh?) pieces too. The show was fast paced and hustled along. This was also because of a lack of interaction and connection, other than an awkward bit about her cat that has seizures. Best Coast came off a little heavier than what I had heard. I dug that.

I had no real connection to the band (other than liking what I had heard prior) and chose to not fight the crowd and stayed back. I scribbled some poetry in my book while letting the music and words float to me.

A strange but cute (I love you wifey!) blonde chick in an odd dress asked if I wanted to dance. When I politely declined she offered me some water. I don’t get it either. The whole time this was happening on twitter:

@Clevelandpoet (me duh!): @grogbrit now if I’m at the @grog_shop shouldn’t you be? If only for the fact that I am.

And eventually her hilarious response:

@grogbrit: @kittenkaboom @clevelandpoet – god, how do i explain? spastic girl running around, blue sweater, jeans, little heels? write that on my grave about 14 hours ago via web

Now unbeknownst to me (I couldn’t get my twitter to work—that sounds bad) I was actually chilling right next to the lovely Brittany for most of Best Coast. After the show we got her replies and eventually asked John K to help find her.

Or the wifey scared John K by saying Grogbrit! Then grabbing him by the shoulders and saying it again. He was like “what happened!” and then when explained pointed her out.

I must say the highlight of the evening was finally meeting her. I say this not just because there were free drinks involved but because she was way awesome! There had been several attempts that always fell through. This time was a success and good times.

Hooray for twitter.

Wait what was the point of this post again? Who knows but check out @overheardohio to see the funny shit that is heard daily.


when snot attacks

August 19, 2010

Gather round everyone. Yes come closer and prepare to be entertained and enlightened. Oh and by entertained and enlightened I mean grossed out (probably) and wishing they no longer read me (more likely).

The family (and maybe most of you others) will be glad to know that this post is sex free. Although the post still has penis in it. Hooray Penis! Oh man that really came out wrong.

(that’s what she said!)

Anypenis (damnit I’m straight I promise) I should set the scene a little bit. It’s a hot muggy Cleveland night. The wife is ready for bed and I decide it’d be good to go be a good husband and snuggle with her till she falls asleep. My allergies had been acting up a little during the day and a bit worse at night but right before bed time they went all terminator on me. It was horrible. My nose felt like it was filled to bursting and no matter how I blew nothing came out.

(That’s what she said)

It was permanently stuffed (twss) and getting really annoying. I was tossing and turning the whole night and making horrendous sounds as I tried to breathe. It was gross and annoying. Eventually I tumbled headlong into dreamland. I woke up around 4 my nose still stuffy and sinus pressure building. I got up to make a sissy.

Side note: I like to use the phrase “make a sissy” to say peeing because it bothers the wife. Yeah I’m a nice guy like that. She married me.

So as I’m peeing I can no longer take this nose that feels like a stuffed pepper. I reach for a tissue and blow my nose. The only problem is as I blew there was considerable collateral damage. That’s right we lost two fingers as they were covered in a nasty string of snot. I tossed the tissue that as the front line of defense let the rest of the troops down into the toilet. Of course now I had to deal with the wounded troops of my right hand.

Sleepily I decided to fling the enemy snot into the toilet. It would’ve worked fine too if it was for those meddling kids or you know if the snot hadn’t landed right on my wang.

I had to work wang into it at least once.

(That’s right you guessed it: That’s what she said.)

So it sort of went like this:

Fling. Splat.

Me: Oh…oh…you evil enemy bastard. You dare bring this to our shores?

You see and you thought I only act/talk like that on here. Oh no it happens 24/7 baby. So I cleaned off my totem pole and sort of just stood there sleepily thinking. You know thinking about how this is gonna be a tmi post someday. Then the enemy began to attack again. I tried to clear my nose and breathing in but all that did was help the enemy infiltrate my throat. The enemy made its slimy way into my mouth and I decided it was time for a swift attack. I was gonna kill them quick and easy. I looked down at the enemies soon to be pee watery grave and spat.

Sabotage!

Like 24 this seemed to help their secret other plan along. It landed you guessed it write on my jimmy crack corn. In case you are wondering why it was not safely tucked away—it’s because I sleep naked. It’s factoid #2. Scene:

Thibbt. Splat.
Me: Fuck! The villainy!

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So after another cleaning of the bishop in a turtleneck I headed back to bed.

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The one where Egyptian stuff is cool

August 11, 2010

As I mentally prepared myself for the next lecture at Cleveland Museum of Art I have to (decided to despite being horrible at it) chronicle I realized that I never reviewed the last one. I know (I know) the uproar was crazy but fear not because here it is.

There was something different about this lecture. We got there with about 10 minutes (or so) to wait. The room was pretty filled (more than the other lectures) and people kept coming in. It was louder in there as people chatted and laughed. There were the few regulars, which I suppose include the wife and me. There was the old guy with the crazy hair, the slow question asker and the “doesn’t know how to give a compliment” guy. This time we weren’t the youngest in the crowd because there appeared to be some students and a few children. There was a buzz in the crowd—though mostly the sound of chatter you get with a bigger crowd. The bigger crowd could only mean two things.

1. Egyptian shit is cool

Or

2. Lauren is way popular.

Yes the rizza was in attendance. I believe the conversation that lead to the three of us attending went like this:

Rizza: What is the next lecture about?
Me: The Egyptian Collection in 2010: New discoveries, new perspectives.
Rizza: OMG. Putting it in my calendar now.

As we waited for it to begin I prepared for it by asking myself several important questions. Such as:

Does he/she resemble someone in a movie?
Does he/she make me think of random unrelated movie scenes?
Does he/she have an accent?
Do I look good in that picture (the lovely Alicia snapped a pic with her phone)?

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Not too bad—the wifey looks way cute.

The first obstacle to get over was the fact that he did not resemble anyone from any movies. Even worse
there were no movie scenes coming to mind. Oh well steady the ship and just follow your notes. The man giving the lecture was Lawrence M. Berman, consulting curator of Egyptian Art. He has quite the long title (That’s what she said!) He left us for Boston.

Boo! Hiss! Get out of here with your Chowdah! Just get in that Cah of yours and leave.

Oh wait he’s a curator and not a baseball, basketball or football player. Never mind then. These were all literal notes I wrote down. I think I was about to do a little drawing of a bean when he said:

“It amazes me to think” and then paused. This was written with a chuckle in my notebook with a “Yes!” next to it. Another difference between this one was he was the only speaker to drink.

And slur.
Heyooooooooo!

That’s not true he didn’t slur. Seriously though he wasn’t drunk and was very good. I’m sure it was just water in there. I for some reason did chronicle the sips he took for some reason.

He brought up his first slide (2nd sip.) I didn’t make any notes on this slide—why would I? Afterlife was in the back row of 4 objects and I’ve seen the afterlife be shown in the background of more than few pieces. Did I make a note of this? Not really instead I noted: “I wonder if the afterlife gets to 2nd base often back there.”

Then there was the Striding statue of Minnifer (1936).

The 3rd sip brought us a comment about Indiana Jones. The slide brought this note: “I love that scene when the dude does the whole flashy routine with the scimitar only to be shot by Indy.” Followed by “Indy hates snakes yo!” and no there were no snakes on the slide.

Fourth sip in.

This note is not necessarily in order of the lecture: there was also a slide of grave sites that made me note “Looks like a giant peanut butter cookie.” I’m not quite sure why. It was more of an aerial view if I remember correctly. Then he read from a diary (possibly Anne Frank’s? Not likely but I don’t really know any other famous diaries) I know I know that was horrible. It was actually the diary of the people doing the dig/archiving and what not.

Notes on this include: Boring—who writes these things? They thought they were so cool with their facts and figures and drawings. Not one person died or betrayed someone in the diary.

5th sip. He said huge, enormous, bigger, and large a lot. Ladies you know who you want to party with. They always say once you go curator…

….you get your ass educated.

What the hell?

Oh oh a Google maps joke! See Egyptian artifacts can be topical. And it’s about this point where he appears to remind me of Woody Allen. (Don’t ask)

There were relics from the Tomb of Nyankhnesut. Some slides of plowing and flute playing but not in the sexual way. (It was important to note in my notes that it was not sexually) Things really picked up with A 3300 year old tomb being rediscovered at Saqqara. It went 125 years (if I’m reading the chicken scratch I wrote correctly, because I’m too lazy to search to find out) since it’s discovery.

Vizier Mereruka, who was married to the King´s eldest daughter. In time, Mereruka became the high priest of Teti´s mortuary cult. Then in an hour long special on ESPN the tomb announced itself and will soon be playing for the Miami Heat.

Oh that joke hurts so good.

During this part he was much more excited (that’s what she said) than the other speakers. You can feel his passio—

Oh oh he said “star gate” he’s going to get sued!

That was literally how my note looked. It came (twss) in the middle of the previous sentence.

6th sip He went on to “Shipwrecked Sailor” slides. The story is of a sailor that gets shipwrecked (who would have guessed?) on an Island and is soon visited by a serpent. Basically picture Tom Hanks minus the volley ball and dancing. The serpent gets this note: Cobra Commander with a beard.

I was interested in the “Paint Box of Vizier Amenemope”

Dude was like the Chief Justice of a supreme court if he was stapled to Voltron. I believe the explanation of this was the fact that he had several “jobs” or “roles” rolled into one thing? I really dug this slide and had just recently spent time looking at in the actually gallery.

My doodle:

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Real one (from the wonderful CMA site. Visit them!):

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Colors: red (desher), green (wadj), blue (khesbedj and irtiu), and 2 blacks.

Notes in section include: Master of secrets. Overseer of city and Even Kings have paint boxes. A lot of Ooh and ohhs being murmured: See previous note about partying with curators.

Went on to some slides of Model Cheetah Skins. They were 8 ½ inches long with painted spots. Statues often wore cloaks—you know like in Mannequin? Much was discussed about Ra—the Sun God. Way back up there one was a High Priestess of Ra.

Okay let’s try to bring this home as gently as possible because the last notes go like this:

Ah in this slide 2 baboons sing Rage Against the Machine to the Sun God. This should be a story of creation. Oh it ended with about 8 sips in case you cared. The lecture was very interesting and I don’t do it just—good lord if you thought I was trying then all hope is lost!

Some notes not used:

Should conclude his lecture with a naked finger biting child or naked finger biting god/boy.
Howard Carter (finder of artifacts) related to Gary Carter? (HOF Catcher)
Made of metal—Like a smaller Decipticon.
Priest of Ra—Wu Tang Clan bitches!
Mr. Toomy—(Langolier joke needs to be thought up)

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the one where we cram it all in

July 20, 2010

Thats what she said!

There are a lot of bloggers out there that post a weekly recap of their weekend. It usually involves going to a lot of cool places with their friends. I am not one of them. Mostly because you know I like to make shit up.

That and I don’t really go out partying it up on the town. We do a lot of stuff. We like to celebrate the things to do in Cleveland and there are a ton of things. There are slow days for us and then there are times where we go to a play, dinner, a concert and a movie in one day. If need be we just cram it all in.

That’s what she said.

This weekend was one of those times. Friday there was what the kids are calling these days a “tweetup”. It was called the east-side tweetup and was held at the Willoughby Brewing Company. We were invited and you know went and stuff.

Oh was that not good enough? See I’m bad at this. The Three Shillelaghs headed over to Willoughby Brewing Company. Hilarity sort of ensued. I was still sort of limping. The pain in my heel had mostly subsided by then. We parked and then started walking toward the restaurant. We didn’t even get across the street when the wifey’s (kat clearly) flip flop broke. The back part just fell right off. Just as she walked it fell off and as she marveled about it and tried to walk on the rest of the shoe died. We walked on discovered it was further than we thought went back and got the car. Drove to it found there was absolutely nowhere to park and ended up parking right by where we originally did. She had to basically walk with the shoe in her hand the whole way and then fake like it was on to get inside.

The night was cool and met some new peeps which always a good thing. I wasn’t that impressed with the menu (though did not have anything) and the apps were expensive. The jack and ginger was tall and that good. The waitress was pretty awesome even if she got sort of busy and there were a few times I sat there like this:

‘more jack daniels please”

But you know more desperate sounding. All in all a good time was had. After we left we stopped and got us some Chick-fil-A. Yum.

Saturday was such a full day that the wifey made an itinerary. I never actually saw it but I’ve heard it did exsist. The Three Shillelaghs packed the car and headed on down to Akron for the:
National Hamburger Festival

Yay.
It was so hot.
(how hot was it)

It was so hot that on the way there a minivan caught on fire. Okay so that probably isn’t true. A minivan was on fire on the opposite way as we drove to Akron though. It was hot as all get out while at the festival that consisted of a bunch of places to get hamburgers for a 2 block radius. I was sort of disappointed by it. I mean it was cool and all but it lacked stuff. The only merch were shirts and Jughead comic books. A vast majority of the events seemed to be taking place at night and we’d have to be gone way before then to keep our schedule. I was going to attempt to be in the bobbing for burgers contest but oh well.

There was this:

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That’s right there was a Barney Fife look alike walking around the festival. How awesome is that? Also as we approached he yelled out:

“I’m Barney Fife bitches! What mofo wanna take a picture with me?”

Ok not really but I almost asked him if he would. Later he threatened to arrest us if we tried to sneak back in. The burgers were tasty and the one we got was from Steel Trolley Diner. Their banner said get your burger branded. I ordered the Marley Burger: A ½ pound burger topped with Jamaican jerk sauce and Orange chipotle mayo. It was tasty and they indeed did “brand” your burger. Unfortunate (or hilarious) they have std as their initials.

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Yes my burger said STD on it and I still ate it.

We left there and went home to nap for a little bit. Then we hit up the Cleveland Cinematheque for Animal Crackers. After some Marx Brothers brilliance we ate some Aladdin’s and then hit up Parnell’s Pub for some x-mas in July. It was for Thirsty Dog’s 12 dogs of Christmas Ale. Tasty! Then I had one tall Jack and Ginger. From there we headed over to the Capitol Theatre to see the late shift showing of Memento. It had been a while since I’d seen it and I really looked forward to it. On the way there the wife tried to destroy the happiness that is the Marx Bros. by saying they were probably very unhappy. This discussion went up until the movie started and included several other people getting involved. Then I won tickets to see the late shift showing of Pulp Fiction.

Sunday was a more relaxed. The wifey headed over to her mom’s house to do laundry and thesis work. I stayed home wrote some and watched soccer for a bit. Then I watched George A. Romero’s Diary of the Dead. It was decent. I was preparing for Monday’s viewing of Survival of the Dead. Later that night we went to a new Indian Restaurant called Indian Flame. It was delish. A review with pictures will be written soon as we go a second time.

Monday we went to breakfast and then picked up Lindsay. We headed over to the zoo to enjoy free day. It was pretty sweet even if it was packed and my heel was hurting again.
The wife and I on the Australian adventure train:

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It was fun but got weird when the driver said:
‘Oh my mate lookit the kangaroo ova there. Ain’t she a beaut? Why I’d like to stick me little dingaroo in her pouch. Boomerang bitches”

All that but you know with an Australian accent or you know probably not at all.

We encountered a lady wearing leggings that looked like jeans as jeans. It was not pretty and I wasn’t fast enough to snap a picture. Later on the wife and Lindsay marveled at the Rhino’s dong.
After that we went home for some resting and lunch. I almost set the apartment on fire. I forgot the package my Sammy was in had metal like shit inside and yeah it started to burn in the microwave. After a nap that did nothing for us we headed out to see Survival of the Dead which was pretty good.

Damn I’m tired.

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