Your Yankee Indian Point Power Report driven by Jeep for Celino & Barnes who eat Little Debbie Snack Cakes at the Hebrew Home, which is like a college campus.
Look, when that flyball conked me on the head in centerfield (and then miraculously bounced into the stands for a home run), it changed me forever. The concussion somehow released untapped resources within my brain. Overnight I became a visionary. I understood the cosmos, including geopolitics. Now I share that wisdom freely, just like I used to distribute steroids in the clubhouse.
Keen political insight...I may not be from Toronto (then again, neither is Jose) but I'd consider voting for him, given the chance...though I have to admit to having some misgivings. No, not the steroids! The "waiting for bags" deal. I have no idea what that means, but there's NO way to see something like that out of context and not wonder. Go ahead; try to. See what I mean?
It's existential, man, like "Waiting for Godot". For me, even standing near a luggage carousel is a metaphysical experience. Now excuse me while I visit the 8th dimension. Man, I LOVE these PEDs!
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