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I will bypass the two afternoons, Saturday and Sunday, that I spent on the beach, and just compensate for the implicit gloating by saying that the illness I felt a couple of weeks ago has returned, and the rumbling in my lower intestine (or wherever in the bowels of my internal hell the rumbling occurs) is making me reluctant to go to bed, lest it wish to suddenly speak its vile curses on the big, white porcelain telephone to the gods.
Don't make me explain, because I will.
Cheers,
Marc
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