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Jayhawk Jake got in my car and I killed some cones

All in all, a good day. This was my third out of forth runs, and I believe the only time I murdered a poor defenseless cone. The real fun is towards the end when, after getting back on track after getting lost, my hand slips off the wheel and I punch myself in the nads, spurring a shouting match between myself and God as I wrestle the several-ton American pillow fort back to the finish line while ripping my tires to shreds.


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