I stare at a sideways horse field- sideways saddles, sideways blinders, sideways fences. There is dirt on my temple and my lips taste a little bloody. Seven or so feet away my favorite mug with Jesus Christ's face on the front lies in a dark circle of spilled coffee on the trail. Closing my left eye and then my right, I listen to the mallards
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I've edited the entry to exclude the part where my wondering is so off. These entries need to make sense.
After thinking it through for half a second I realize that of course you are correct. Duh.
Just this time, Robbins. Remember: the internet know-it-all gets less than 8 minutes before being hit right in the face.*
* I decided to risk sounding overly aggressive in exchange for this unbelieveably whitty retort.
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