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| Isn't this supposed to be plural? |
Years ago, against my better judgement and in a spasm of desperation and sadness I got wretchedly drunk on scorpion bowl poison, my liver fell out in the bathroom and I stuffed it back in, and it seems like the very next day I was climbing this mountain called Chocorua* wearing bell bottom jeans and a polyester shirt. I thought my heart was going to crack a rib with the thumping of a dying man. No heart defibrilators or nothing nearby. See that peak? I almost died getting there.
