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Guess what? I got angry because...

  • Guess what? I got angry because...

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  • it turns out that I'm really allergic to cabbage. Like seriously, you wouldn't want to be present if I accidentally see cabbage. RAGE! Anyway, my "best" friend invited me over for

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  • a tantric cereal sessions. My "best" friend is

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  • a serial killer. I never expected it, but overhearing that conversation on the phone had blown my mind.

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  • My first instinct was to call the police but I was afraid they'd noticed I was eavesdropping, so I left as quietly as possible. I don't want to anger any serial killers.

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  • I've already angered a video artist, a Marvel fanatic, and a few penguins. I've been the receiver of enough anger for a lifetime. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to

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  • take a seat and work on my circular breathing. A good didgeridoo session often helped set things right, so I pulled out my ridgy-didge and inhaled deeply, the sound was

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  • preternaturally deafening. I was no longer in control of my breathing; rather than being exhaled by me, my breath was being forcefully sucked into the didgeridoo I held in my hands

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  • I throw it down and suck in as much air as my lungs would let me. "Why the hell did I choose this instrument? It is horrible to play and it sounds like a dying duck. I huff in hate

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  • as I search for a music maker that won’t cause me to hyperventilate whenever I play it. Suddenly…There it is! It’s boxy, it tunes easily, and it’s electrified. It’s an AM/FM RADIO!

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