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On this day, a legend was born. Actually, it was just me.
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I attended kindergarten. I was exceptional at everything and my teacher remembered me even when I was in high school. (Not even lying about that detail. She really remembered me and my mom.)
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My little brother, Jackson Russell, was born. Somewhere in the world, Edgar Allan Poe rolled over in his grave at the loss of the perfect opportunity to chronicle such a disastrous event. I mean, look at that face. Stare deeply into the black pits of his eyes and try to contain your feelings of despair and soul-sucking terror.
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My dad died.
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Nope, sorry, no picture for this one!
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This beautiful creature was captured in the wilds of the automobile car lot. I found it sitting off to the side, unable to find a kindred spirit among the Toyotas who named that particular car lot home. I kindly took him home and gave him a place among the streets of Chickasaw.
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I visited my cousin in San Diego. My first plane ride. I also saw the Hollywood sign. Pretty neat.
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My friend, Cheyenne, and I, graduate from Satsuma High School! It was a glorious day indeed. That jaguar in the background may be familiar to most of you. That is because my hunting partner and I single-handedly brought down the mighty beast. We had it stuffed and placed it there as a trophy.
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He was parked on our street, in the usual place, when a truck hit him. Luckily, my bug didn't go down without a fight. Though the truck pushed him back ten feet, he flipped the truck on its side. I was in the kitchen when it happened. I heard a bang and looked out the window to see my car being pushed and the truck going over.
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Archie, (short of Archimedes), is my new Owlship. He is a faithful companion, and has yet to let me down.
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My mom died. Worst Christmas ever.
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