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would be sitting in the living room eating some sort of slimy crap that smelled like farts and feet (militant vegetarian). He'd give me a jaunty little wave, and say, "Hey, man!" I didn't know him, but wanted to kick him square in the pretty plump girl balls. The story gets kinda complicated, and I don't really feel like going into it. But at some point we stopped meeting up for our regular Sunday brunches (connect the dots). And when we'd see each other in the pretty plump girl halls at work we'd just grunt at each other, and keep walking. None of it was exactly unusual for that time of my life, but I hated it. Toney and I seemed to click, and I always had a great time with her. But, I kept telling myself, it just wasn't meant to be. There was nothing left to do except maybe go to Manuel's and drink to excess. It was out of my hands, so start me a tab, bartender. Months passed, and my ex-girlfriend (girlfriend?) and I started spending a lot of time together again. It hadn't ended very well the first time around, and we were treading lightly.
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