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(P*pes & Tobaccos) It was a typical Saturday. I’d been meandering through the house smoking a pipe and carrying a toolbox, trying to look like I was accomplishing something with door hinges or stair rails so my wife wouldn’t give me a real assignment, like digging out the driveway’s drainage pipe or doing battle with the Screaming Peruvian Poison-Spitting Spider population colonizing our crawlspace. Nobody can make abject laziness look as purposeful as I can. Continued
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