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A FEW WORDS ABOUT READING AND LISTENING
For reasons unknown to me, I have been a voracious reader from the time Miss Brantley rescued me from the girls’ room. I have told the story before but perhaps it bears repeating. On my first day in school in the Forsythe School in Clayton, Missouri, I felt the need to relieve myself and walked…
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SHOOTING ONESELF IN ONE’S OWN FEETS
A scholar casually reading the title to this essay may conclude that it is not in accordance with the King’s English or at least the King James version of the English language. But if you will bear with me, I will try to explain to the doubters why I contend that we are shooting ourselves…
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DIRECT DEPOSIT?!!
On very rare occasions an incident will happen that demands to be written about. In this case, I am led to believe that if this essay is not written promptly, an indescribable act will be committed on my front porch. The incident in question took place on Friday morning before the start of the Labor…