Sunday ended up being a day of more injury and desperately needed recovery. After I turned butterfingers once again and sliced my thumb open cutting an apple (I swear, I do something like this once every six months - cannot forget the "cured meat" incident, or the "mandoline incident"), Marci and I headed to Chinatown for some full-body pummeling
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he also dated a friend of mine but we never talked.
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