I suppose I can't call it "my day" if I haven't done anything that would do down in (my) history.
For the previous years it would undoubtedly be the never-ending 3 to 4-steps fall off the stairs -- mostly on my butt. An annual event; don't ask. Last year, I was lucky. Or, as lucky as I could be. I didn't fall off any flight of stairs. I just
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poor sauce, it wanted in your tummy but got everywhere else instead.
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