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Last night I found a picture from an old

  • Last night I found a picture from an old family photo album. It showed my family getting off the boat from Sweden to America 76 years ago, greeted by me. I was 13 when I found it.
  • The photo also made me sad, however. Here I now was, 89 years old and had no teeth because of all the Swedish fish I had consumed over the years. If only
  • I had saved the fish bones I could have ground them up with a little epoxy and made me some new choppers. Or maybe not. My old hands shook as I flipped through the photo albums, re
  • calling my career as a hand model. I had beautiful hands in those days. People would often ask me just to hold guns for them. Little did I know I would be used to model in a bank
  • er's fantasy. One of the worst kind. Banker, gucci purple label suit. Caviar. Macanudos. Top floor. Awesome view. A weird Saudi over in the corner. All because of my hands.
  • My beautiful hands crafted this wonderful life for me, thought the banker as he leaned back and shed a single tear. I should live here forever in this dream. Why not? Oh, yeah...
  • He then bet against small Asian nations, buying CDS via offshore firms, triggering a crisis and mass divestment: beautiful handcrafted record profits. The banker shed another tear.
  • This went viral, much to his embarrassment. His mum thought he was wasting his money-and hers too. "Stop this, we will lose everything!", she pleaded. He listened to his mum and
  • took the video down from the internet, only thankful that his mother had not seen it. "Or did I?", she asked, and a large blush came over his cheeks. "It was only -", he stammered,
  • "a d-documentary o-on naturalism!" His mother smiled knowingly: "The only thing natural about that tangled knot of pervs, sweety, was the bed's oak finish. You're doing sex rehab!"

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