Why, yes -- yes, I am trying to make you somewhat nauseous. Whatever gave me away?
Jesus Christ, are you and Frank Shorter carb-loading for the 1978 Boston Marathon?
You know it! Grueling work, ripping two-inch pieces of gorilla tape while gossiping with PDX cartoonists, and then going to bed three-four hours later. [I've regained the ten pounds I lost during my undiagnosed adventure.]
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