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And That, Son, is Why We Don’t Do Drugs

Some cops and I found ourselves headed to the same place: the hallway outside my apartment where someone tripping on drugs had just done something really crazy.

Sweatpants & Christmas

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Birth. Not for Weak Sauce Sissy Boy-Men.

My sister invited me into the room when my nephew was born. It was worse than I ever could have imagined. And I barely saw anything of it at all.

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