mind expanding nonsense

Archive for October, 2013

God’s Gift to Mankind

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I wasn’t gonna post this one cause a lot of folks might think it sacrilegious.  But then I thought, ‘Hey..sacrilegious is kinda like religious; it has the same word in it.”  So here it goes.  And oh yea, I do believe in the Bible, especially the creation story in Genesis, but know that it’s more a metaphor, and that a lot of scientific stuff has been left out.  Like how everything that was created in the first week, after resting up on the Seventh Day, began to obey God in earnest and started copulating their socks off, “Being fruitful and multiplying”.  Everything that could get an erection, lay an egg, or simply split in two was screwing their brains out that Monday, except for poor old Adam.  But God, in His ultimate wisdom, made something special, just for Adam, and I’ll tell ya about that a little latter.

As I said, I believe in a six day creation, and especially in intelligent design.  When God created the cannabis plant six thousand years ago, no only did He make a plant with remarkable characteristics, but He also put special receptors in the brains of the humans He created in His own image.   So not only does God like to get high, He knew Mankind would too, and designed things to help mankind cope.  That’s also why He created alcohol.  Designing certain grains and fruits to not just rot, but ferment.  If God wanted mankind to avoid alcohol, He would have made it taste bitter, burn your throat, and give ya  headaches or make ya barf.

You know there had to be a giant cannabis plant somewhere in the Garden of Eden.  Adam probably had a few hits before naming all the animals.  And you know what else was cool?  God was able to create things mature and fully grown, like all the animals who were busy “multiplying” each other.  All He had to do was say, “Let there be Reefer”, and that was it. You and I, if we were so inclined to grow a few plants (for medical consumption only) would have to order seeds from Holland, and pay for em in Euros (rip-off), or go to the local dispensary and buy some clones, and then wait for six months for our little Trees of Life to ripen.  But lucky Adam had weed from day one…well probably day six.

Hansi 001But he didn’t have a woman.  So God created Eve out of Adams rib.  Life was sweet until Eve got really baked one day; got the munchies; and was so spaced out that she thought she saw a snake standing next to the Tree of Good and Evil, and had a bite.  It sure blew her mind, as well as Adam’s too, cause they both thought, “Wow….we’re naked.  Where did we leave our clothes?”

Well, you know the rest of the story and how it was all down hill from there.

Sure glad Noah took a male and female pot plant with him on the Ark.

Cyclical Slump

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Usually, about every three months or so, my creative juices dry up, and I find myself in a slump.  This has been happening on such a regular basis, that I’m staring to think that it’s cyclical in nature.  And can be seen coming and viewed as nothing new when it finally hits.

Usually when this happens [I really shouldn’t start two paragraphs in a row with the same word, but by the time you finish reading this, you fill have forgotten about that], and predictably so, I stop drawing, or draw crap, and try to camouflage it with some brilliant bullshit.  “If ya can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle ’em with bullshit.”

Well I’ll be dipped in shit, if the opposite didn’t happen this time around.  Drawing is going along nicely (the same old stuff), but the quirky, adolescent in nature, good-hearted fun-filled grab-ass bullshit has dried up totally. Usually (that’s #3) there no end to my B S.  In fact people have often told me, “Hansi, you’re full of shit”.

I really don’t wanna write about myself and what I’m going through. And, I don’t want this to be a “Geezer” blog, where I go on rants about how everything is turning to shit, and how current economics, politics, social trends and what the entertainment industry deems ‘entertaining’, is driving me absolutely insane to the point that all I want to do is turn on, tune in, and drop out.

But maybe my sufferings can be a blessing unto others, who take heart, see the light, and who can thankfully say, “I’m sure glad I’m not as fucked-up as he is” 🙂

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Another Key to a Successful Retirement Lifestyle

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When I first started blogging about three years ago, I followed a guy who wrote about successful retirement lifestyles, how you could have one too, and fancied himself to be a lifestyle coach who could make a fortune blogging. And you know what?  I was laying around one afternoon listening to music, and thought, “Hey I can be a retirement lifestyle coach too.”   How hard could it be?  All ya gotta do is lay around the house all day and watch TV.  Plus, I’m a fairly opinionated guy, who has no qualms about giving folks unsolicited advice.

So….The fist key: Don’t Overdo It!

The Wife and I are in the process of redoing out dinning room.  Getting rid off the old curtains and wallpaper, repainting, the whole nine yards (guess we didn’t learn our lesson after doing the kitchen re-model last year).  A pretty big job for an old retired guy.  Thirty years ago when I was younger, in my prime, had more energy and was getting layed on a regular bi-weekly basis; no problemo.  I could whip that sucker out in a weekend, but not no more!  Everything now is just a slight bit more painful, and not only do I have to look forward to hours of aching drudgery, I first gotta move thirty years of accumulated bullshit, and have The Wife find a new temporary home for all that crap, before the torture begins.

10-1-13 009When a friend stopped by and saw the process going on, he suggested that if I where to work more than just three hours a day, this project would be done in no time.  But no!  Being the lifestyle coach that I am, I told him that while on the surface that may appear to be true, in reality it would be the other way around.

If I where to work, say eight hours a day on this project, I’d destroy my body, and need to take a shit-load of drugs to ease the pain.  And everybody knows that when ya take a shit-load of drugs, you’re not very productive all day.  Plus, (drawing on my experience as a probation officer), using a shit-load of drugs on a regular basis, can lead to addiction, and with addiction, the daily need to feed your  habit…to the point where ya got a little “problem” going on, and end up being put in Detox by your kids, followed by a ninety day Residential Program which probably ain’t covered by MediCare, and costs a fortune to boot.  Then there’d be the follow-up out-treatment program with daily meetings to attend.

So, it’s plain to see, that working harder at some goal, does not necessarily mean your goal will be reached quicker.  On the contrary, working too hard at something could mean you’ll never get it done.

Nope.  You never wanna Overdo anything.

Winged Woman On a Stack of Plywood

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Not a lot of commentary on this one.

Eating After Dinner

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One of the best ways I’ve found to keep my weight under tolerable control, is by not eating after dinner.  Whether ya call it dinner, supper, or the evening meal (I could never get that dinner/supper thing straight), that’s it.  What ever you wanna call it, that was the last feeding of the day, and it’s time for no more.  Usually, for me, the evening meal isn’t just a time to take the edge off of hunger, but a time to smash it thoroughly, so I end up feeling not satisfied, but stuffed.  And those ‘hunger pains’ I start to feel just before bedtime, are not really pains so much as symptoms of relief, that my stomach is finally shrinking back to its normal size after being distended to its max.

eat 001I’ve found that eating after dinner, is an easy ass-fattening behavior that I can give up without feeling like I’m depriving myself of anything….except yummy deserts. 😦   On the positive side, I’m sleeping better, and feeling better too.  The problem is, I can’t have dinner late in the evening like when we visit some of our more cosmopolitan friends.  They eat late, like at eight o’clock at night.  Damn, that’s like eating an hour before bed for me.  And I hate laying there in bed, feeling uncomfortable, tossing and turning cause I ate too much too late.  [Sure tasted good though].

And you know what else gets me?  These friends like to act ‘European’, and eat their salads last!  I could never understand that.  You always eat  salads (especially those made with homegrown organic lettuces) First!  That’s what ya get first in restaurants.  Cause it’s like a little teaser for you digestive system.  Loaded with vitamins, minerals , and fiber, salads are way of telling your intestines, “Get ready down there, a lot of greasy-ass grub is comin’ your way.”  Eating salad last is conversely like saying, “I told ya so.”

But seriously, if you are looking for a way to keep your weight under control.  Try not eating after dinner.  I know I don’t need all them extra calories (laying around the house all day dreaming up blog posts is not exactly strenuous exercise), and who knows?  Ya might end up feeling a whole lot better.

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The above is not a self portrait 🙂

Floaters and Floating

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Ya ever stare off, not focusing on anything in particular, and see all these weird little floating things on you eyeballs?  Or close your eyes and watch balls of color explode and blend into different shapes?  Well I do. And it’s not because I dropped a lot of Acid in college; I didn’t.  It just happens, kinda like a free light-show, just like what the guys in these drawings are experiencing.

circles 002Do you ever wish you could just float through life and experience everything without effort and with ease?  Nice fantasy, but I think I’d get tired of that after a few daze days.  I like action, but action tends to lead to stress, and I like mellowing out more than stressing out.  When you’re floating through life, there’s little friction, little resistance.  “Going with the flow.”

Sounds like a catchy phrase.  Must have been an A A slogan like, “One day at a time”.   A little worn out maybe, but still packed with a lot of truth.  I love A A slogans; they’re just so right on.  One of my favorites is “Stinkin’ thinkin'”.  That’s when you have this great brain storm, and decide to pursue some endeavor that will only lead to your ruin.  For alcoholics it means justifying and deluding yourself into having a drink.  For those of us who aren’t alcoholics, it basically means you’re full of shit.

There’s sure a lot of sober folks in the United States Congress who are guilty of some big time stinkin’ thinkin’.  I bet they’ll never try and shut down the government again over a little thing like health care. [Now that’s stinkin’ thinkin’].

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I don’t live what you’d call a stressful life, where you’re always on the go dealing with a bunch of bullshit.  Even the four hours I go to The House of Pain and work for the Probation Department a couple times a week, aren’t really ‘stressful’, it’s more like boring drudgery that ya get paid for.  My daily chores aren’t stressful.  Mowing the lawn is pretty much stress-free, but still a pain in the ass.

Maybe it’s my resistance to certain tasks that’s causing me to stress-out.  When you’re always pushing back at something, that causes a friction, which results in stress.  Perhaps if my attitude changed towards lawn mowing, things would be different.  But that would entail firing up a joint, and hitting the lawn (a little grass before cutting the grass) after I’d had a puff or two (or three, or four).  Pretty trippy.

But that could result in a shitty job, with none of the lines across the lawn being straight, or the sidewalks edged well.  Plus, ya always run the risk of deciding half way through, that some lawnmower sculpting is the best idea you’ve ever had, and ya end up making crop circles in your lawn, which when viewed from above, look like a pack of dogs came by and shit on your lawn.

But all stress is not necessarily bad, leading you to do weird shit in front of your house.  There’s good stress, like in exercising, where ya feel exhilarated after pushing yourself.  So all stress is not inherently bad.  Just like cholesterol.  There’s good cholesterol (like in fish and olive oil) and bad cholesterol: the lard they cook all your french fries in, which makes em taste oh so good.  Put a little salt (bad) on em, maybe some pepper too (good), and you be in hog heaven.

It’s funny how everything has a dark side.  You can have a glass of red wine, and a piece of chocolate every night, and that’s good for you.  But too much, and it’ll come around and bite ya in the ass.  Sunshine is good, and makes everything in my garden grow, plus it provides me with vitamins A and D.  But if I stand outside in the sun too long, I could catch skin cancer.  Go figure.

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Now here’s some real stress for ya. The above drawing was my first attempt at this image.  I really got into it, being careful to get it just right.  But after I inked it, I realized I’d mis-spelled Stress, and drew Stess instead.  What a F***ing idiot.  And yes I did yell out the F-word.  How’s that for some stress.  Luckily I was able to fix it by drawing a big R in the background so nobody would know I fucked up.

General Insanity

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That’s one of my categories down there on the lower right, and it encompasses the bulk of my posts. A lot of times, my posts fall into the “Bizarre But True” category, cause there’s always a little bit of truth (as I perceive it) in most of my writings.  There’s also a lot of stuff “Ripe For Ridicule”.  And, although I don’t see it that way, some people think “What A Wanker” (whatever that is) after reading my stuff.  Well, today, all those categories are fitting into to my seldom used category of “Politics That Piss Me Off”.

This government shutdown over the budget and raising the debt ceiling is making me crazy.  Seems like a group of Hillbilly Congressmen think they can bring the United States Government to its knees, in an attempt to resend a health-care law passed by a majority and found to be constitutional, and flirt with economic disaster, holding the country hostage while doing so..  And now, when it’s starting to back-fire on them, claim the President won’t negotiate, and want some sort of “deal” so they can save face.

Everyone living outside the United states must be thinking, “What the fuck is going on”.  My sister in Germany says that could never happen over there.  Well that’s because you gave right-wing Fascism a try, and it didn’t work out so well.  Anyway, we’re getting down to the wire with this debt ceiling thing, with all the predictions from people that don’t have their heads up their asses being: Calamity, Disaster, another recession to come. With Armageddon just around the corner, how is one to deal with it all?

Srah and TedWell…You know I have a rich imagination; a penchant for general insanity (not to mention all things in bad taste), plus, I also have the ‘Hots’ for Sarah Palin.  So after I saw her and Texas Senator Ted Cruz [that’s Rafael Edward “Ted” Cruz; sounds Mexican to me…I’d sure like to see his birth certificate] show up at a Tea Party demonstration outside the closed for business World War Two Memorial, and carry on about the evils of  Obama-Care, I thought, “What a bunch of hypocritical opportunists!”

After my anger subsided, I started thinking,  “Wow, this would make a great Porno Flick”.  What if Ted and Sarah, after busily working up the crowd of demonstrators, demonstrated how they could work on each other.  I can see it now.  With microphones in hand, shouting out the evils of Obama-Care, and how it’s the worst thing to happen to this country since we freed the slaves and the South lost the war, Teddy boy starts to get hot with all this right-wing foreplay.  Sarah (getting a little wet herself) unbuttons her blouse, finally revealing a little cleavage (we all knew she had a nice pair), and so the action  begins.  The Tedster, subtly moves in back of Sarah, and starts a bump and grind that strangely mimics the frenzy of their audience. Sarah, knowing that Alaska is a big state, starts to wonder about the size of Texas, and…

Okay…here’s where it could get a little raunchy and move right over into the Wankering category.  So if conservatives copulating ( but not copulating conservatively) offends you, ya better move on to your next blog and find out how life living with nine cats is going. [I know this is pretty sick stuff, but not as nauseating as some of the political stunts these two have preformed, tailor-made for ten second sound-bites.]

A few scenarios could play out here: Sarah could drop to her knees and take a tour of the Lone Star State, or, they could run off to the bushes where twenty paparazzi lay in waiting along with camera crews for all the major news networks, and explore every position mentioned in the Karma Sutra. Teddy boy, having fully recovered from his thirty hours of reading Dr Seuss to an empty Senate chamber, proves himself once again to be a man of considerable stamina.

Well….so much for my rich fantasy life.  This could never happen in reality, and is just a figment of my filthy imagination.  Maybe it’s all about how ya look at things.  I know with all this political drama going on, I’ve got a front row seat and can’t wait to see who what comes next 🙂

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The Middle

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When you’re in the middle of something, you’ve pretty much committed yourself to a particular task, relationship, plan or some endeavor.  You didn’t just start it, nor are you anywhere near its completion.  Nope.  You’re in there slogging away, ensconced, lovin’ it or hating it; you’re smack dab in the middle.

It’s just like the Equinox we just had in September.  That’s when the days were just as long as the nights.  Summer is over, and we’re heading into the time when the days are getting shorter and shorter, until that time when we have the shortest day (and longest night) of the year, and the sun appears to dropping off the end of the world into oblivion.  And, in order to coax it back because our heating bills are skyrocketing, we hold ceremonies and decorate evergreen trees with lights and hang fertility orbs on them so we can merrily fornicate our socks off in a drunken stupor with the hopes of seducing the sun into coming back to us.

Thank god we don’t have to do all that shit anymore like all those idiotic unsaved heathens did way back when.  Now we can merrily fornicate our way through the Yule Tide season with our socks on.

So anyway, putting fertility rites aside, I reached the middle of my Utrecht sketchbook  You can tell by the string binding going down the middle.  I don’t often, and in fact never do, draw on both sides of a sketchbook, like so many other art bloggers do.  It just doesn’t seem right to me.  A page is for one drawing and one drawing only.  And if you can’t get it all on one page due to your lack of planning, ya don’t cheat and go over to the left-hand side, you either take up writing novels, or better yet, buy a bigger sketchbook for your obviously overextended work.  So you can’t go out and buy cheapo 5×8 sketchbooks and expect to do Jackson Pollock sized work.  And you’ll notice that Jackson too, only painted on one side of his canvas, Not Both!

Middle 016Well, enough of this conservative thinking and right-page ideology.  It’s time to cross the artistic aisle sorta speak, and see what the left has to offer. Plus, ya gotta try everything once (with the hope it doesn’t come around and bite ya in the ass).  And, we are heading into winter, so why not celebrate this Art Equinox by filling both sides with fertility symbols, while looking forward to a new year of drawing.

Sounds good to me….wonder where my socks went?

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Sitting Around Waiting For Something To Draw

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Dreaming up all the dumb shit I have to say on this blog is only surpassed in difficulty by having to draw something to accompany it.  You might think it’s easy to lay around and draw whatever comes to my mind, but it isn’t.  A lot of preparation goes into it.

First of all, I only draw at night, and that’s after dinner.  So dinner preparation is a big part of getting ready, especially if ya wanna eat cooked food and not just stand out in the garden and munch away like all the critters that plague me do, (little fuckers).  So if you’re gonna cook, you got to have a glass of wine.  Can’t cook without wine.  It helps take the edge off of the day, and let’s you mellow out.

10-1-13 011Being the geezers that we are, The Wife and I always eat while watching TV in our recliner chairs (draw the line at TV trays).  And, what do we watch while eating dinner?  Why the Food channel of course!  Don’t wanna watch the news, you’d get too angry and pissed to the point that ya wouldn’t enjoy your meal.  The Food channel puts ya in the mood for eating, just the way watching a porno gets ya in the mood for that once a month (whether you need it or not) bout of love making.  [Nothing like watching a pro do it…cooking that is].  One also doesn’t want to watch all them “abs”, or “I hate my butt” workout infomercials.  All you’ll do is think, “I’m too damned fat” and never enjoy your meal.

So, after dinner is done, and ya have a little wine buzz going on (but not too much or you’ll feel like shit the next day),  Ya got to choose the right music.  No easy task.  Should I listen to classic 60’s psychedelic rock or maybe some hot tasty blues by some Texas guitar-slinger?  Hmmm. It’s all good stuff.  Jimi Hendrix wins out a lot of the time.

Finally, after The Wife has migrated to the computer room, I get out my sketchbook, put on my earphones and let it rip.  All the drawings in this post were done while I was ripped 🙂

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I was messing around in Photoshop and pressed the “liquify” tab, and presto!  Everything started to melt and become real liquidy.  I don’t usually overuse Photoshop, but once in a while it’s fun.

Maybe I was a little liquified myself when I did that one.  I like being liquified.  Everything’s more fluid, moves with ease, well lubricated.  No rust or parts grinding against each other.  Keeping well hydrated (in a liquified sorta way) keeps ya moving.  You don’t wanna atrophy or rust shut.  Hell no!  Then movement becomes difficult.  And because it hurts, ya tend to fore-go movement in order to avoid the pain.  No Pain – Loose Your Gain?

Same thing can happen to your brain.  I’d hate to catch Alzheimer’s disease.  Alzheimer can keep that shit.  That’s why it’s nice to keep your neural synapses firing like a well tuned German automobile.  When your mind is humming along smoothly (with some degree of lucidity), you’re able to take life’s aches and pains with a little less resistance and thereby reduce a lot of suffering in your life.

Hot Dog Man Saves Another Bad Drawing

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Hey, Hot Dog Man’s back!  Didn’t think I’d just leave that one in the dust like so many other of my themes.  If ya got a good gimmick going, you wanna ride that sucker into the ground. Take the McDonald’s golden arches, that happy place where you eat shitty food, they’ve been around for decades.  Anyway, who ever tires of seeing  penoid phallic shapes, especially when cleverly disguised as a harmless character who’s overdosed on testosterone.  I sure don’t.

So when a drawing starts going south on ya, and worse yet, you started it in your good Utrecht brown paper sketchbook, no problem.  Just throw Hot Dog Man into the mix, and nobody notices the weaker parts of the work.  Their attention is drawn away from the poor choice of colors, especially in the hat.  (Barf green. what was I thinkin’? ) They’re too fascinated with ol’ HD, and are probably letting their filthy minds wonder who he’s gonna pork next.

Heading Into Full Geezerhood

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I’m gonna share a little secret.  Next February, I’m gonna be 67 years old, and I see full geezerhood creeping up on me (or, am I creeping up on it?).  It’s the whole nine yards: laying around the house all day, wearing the same old clothes everyday, going an extra day without a shower, thinking “I didn’t do shit today, why shower?”  And then there’s never leaving the house unless ya have to, like when ya run out of wine, and then, making a nuisance of yourself when out there in public.  In general, driving The Wife crazy.

That’s why I’m glad I still go to work part-time.  It makes me get outta the house, clean-up (even shave), and put on some clean clothes.  So work is a good thing, or so think some people in my house.  Don’t get me wrong.  Work ain’t the panacea for all one’s ills.  Nope!  That’s because most people who have a job end up working for ass-holes.  And these ass-holes work for even bigger ass-holes above them.  Now these ass-holes don’t think they’re ass-holes.  Hell No!.  They think that we at the bottom are ass-holes, and it’s their job (and moral duty) to make sure we don’t frolic and play all day, but work our asses off so they can make a hole lot of money.

Anyway, and that potty-mouth rant aside, entering Geezerhood is kinda fun.  Me and a couple of my other retired buddies (all Geezers themselves) have an agreement:  If a job at home is just too big, there’s always help just a phone call away.  If ya want some help lifting or moving something, and don’t wanna risk orthopedic surgery as a result, call one of us.  Because you got a Two-Geezer Job.

My retired teacher buddy (who is also an avid gardener of fine medicinal herbs) called me yesterday.  He needed some help lifting a new microwave, so he could fasten it under a cabinet above his stove.  He had a Two-Geezer Job.  Twenty years ago he could have done it himself, but at age 63?  No way!  Having an extra geezer around turned what could have been a real pain in the ass, not to mention possible trip to the Emergency Room, into an easy five minute job.

We spent the next fort-five minutes out in his back shed in recovery.  And fully recover we did.   I like Two Geezer Jobs.

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Thoughts On A Square Piece Of Paper

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I’m not the greatest colorist in the world.  In fact, I struggle with the use of color.  I prefer things in black and white.  It’s a lot easier that way.  Things are more clear.  Kinda like following the rules.  Either you are, or aren’t.  Not a lot of room in between.  Well, there are exceptions to the rules.  You could Almost be following the rules; a hell of a lot better than flat-out Not following them at all.  But still technically, not be a rule follower.  That’s because almost means you ain’t quite there yet (close but no cigar). So having no quite (although still very close) achieving follower status, one is still a non-follower.

Rule followers tend to shun non-followers, or look upon them as less than human or even Barbarians. [It’s funny how all cultures throughout history have looked upon their neighbors as Barbarians.]  Of course they’re more than happy to embrace you once you’ve learned your lesson and have fully converted to being a rule follower.   Then you’re one of them, and not one of those.

Perhaps I should re-think this whole black and white thing.  Maybe adding shades of gray and off-white, along with the careful use of color, could add more clarity to my work, or at least be a lot more fun.

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