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To make a short story long, my trip from

  • To make a short story long, my trip from the car to the curb could have gone much smoother except I insisted on having my hands full of 2 prepared hot plates of the enchilada speci

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  • al sauce specials from Juans Godzilla Enchillada Stand, when the dug came charging up I tried lifting them out of his reach and my foot missed the curb, then

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  • I stepped with my other foot on a discarded avocado peel. Oopsy daisy! Suddenly the world was spinning and burritos were flying. Juan was waving his arms at me. "Watch out for the

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  • puddle of white privilege in the gutter", Juan shouted but I was more concerned with not getting scalded by the hot burritos and fell butt first in the puddle. Suddenly nobody kn

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  • knew where they were, their eyes having rolled so far to the back of their heads at Juan's patronizing and condescending speech. My white butt was definitely in the puddle though,

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  • without a butt paddle. Sure enough, my ass was gonna drown if I didn't figure out a way to impress the livin' tarnation outta these city folk. Juan may be a talker, but can he take

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  • two girls both named Brandy out on a date at the same time, in overalls? No, I didn't think so. Juan and his high-falutin' ways wouldn't know a saw-horse from a plug nickel. Once I

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  • was dating a sheep named Cow and he was so dim that he couldn't string two words together. Ended up in a horrible disaster.

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  • The fellow she ended up with was a buffalo, called himself "Colt." He couldn't really keep up with the herd, if you know what I mean. But he loved her and their 11 1/2 children mor

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  • e or less roamed the plains of Montana with them for the rest of their lives, where the deer and the antelope play. Finally, they were home. Home on the range.

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