There's that moment of suspense. When you reach down to the floor to pick something up. Is it a ball of lint? or is it a bug? You bend over, drawing closer and closer. Hoping that the thing will move just so you'd know if it was a bug. But it never does. It just sits there, motionless, black like some lint, black like some bugs. You
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Gil
oh... and the coke/alcohol analogy is perfect except for the Tequila being the Nectar of the Gods part....once it makes you sick (i.e. puking guts out) you'll change your tune.....(speaking from experience)
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