My good friend Erik is scanning old, old photos of eons past.
He had a moment of sadism by forwarding me one such photo of myself dated from our college days.
His wife's observation of said photo of me was quite amusing. Then I took a look and realized I didn't recognize myself.
Sweet bejebus, was I really that thin? Good lord, did I really own that t-shirt? Was I stoned when he took the photo? Is that really my hair or is that a clever photoshop?
Ah memories. Some are best kept in a blazing hot furnace until they are reduced to their component atoms and scattered across the known universe.
Trump’s Push for ‘Ultrafast’ Meat Processing Could Make a Brutal Industry
Even Worse
-
Labor organizers, environmental advocates, and economists all agree: This
is a bad idea.
10 minutes ago

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