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Joan of Arc

When America’s #1 Shoulder-to-Cry-On provided the cyclist a place to confess, or more like a place for him to kinda open up and kinda admit how he hung bags of blood from hotel walls so he could cheat to win, that’s when all the rumors became fact. And that’s when another hero fell.

Whenever I see a particularly diverse group of friends, I make cynical, outdated references to the Burger King Kids Club. Well, this one makes me feel old and kind of racist.

I was in all ways a better and more interesting person when I was a little kid. There is one main difference between me as a kid and me now. As a kid, I followed through with shit. Did I want to learn about medieval history as a kid? Then by god, I read every single book ever about medieval history. Did I want to learn how to draw the Superman symbol? Then I would sit at our kitchen table and repetitively draw that symbol until my fingers bled.

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