when i was eight years old, a storm blew over a tree and crushed half our house. it was like a faerie tale. i loved it.

and the protestant work ethic never got me. my mom tried to instill it i think, but we never went to church. i grew up thinking of work as something that clever people tricked dumb people into doing.
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_{I don't think anyone's ever really died from smoking. --ni}
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