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I think Paul has caught on that I don't like him. He has started to reciprocate my bicthing (sic).
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I have blisters on my toes from running around the gym in my socks.
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My great-grandfather died Friday. I had only met him a handfull of times. The funeral is tomorrow, in Montreal. I am trying to be back in town by six p.m.
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Tostitos!
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