When it came to my father's mortality, I was somewhat philosophical.
My encounter with a bitey dog.
I've meaning to write about procrastination for quite some time now.
In which I accidentally create a religion.
I've been revisiting some of my older cards. Some of them are inexplicable.
Some games of cricket can last for weeks. In fact, I think that's one of the reasons I moved to America.
I slightly injured myself. Then, whilst forced to do nothing at all, I began to wonder about my own mental well-being.
And then I was locked up in a holding cell, wondering what to do next.
I tell you, it really makes a man think.
I once assumed I worked for the New England Journal of Medicine. My error seems to have led to some expensive renovations.
It's Christmas Eve, and I've been making cakes and receiving compliments.
Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?
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