I'm getting old.
I woke up this morning and couldn't remember if Sylvia was married or single.
How could I not know that?
I was just about to call her.
Then I realized that she died in 1989.
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It's a gas, gas, gas!
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I might.
"It's over for us. If this oil comes ashore, it's just over for us," Rowell said angrily, rubbing his forehead. "Nobody wants no oily shrimp."
1 comment:
That's sad.
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