If I wanted a boring life, I suppose I wouldn’t be attracted to women who threw hand grenades into it. I spend most of my time running after them, trying to stuff the pins back in. Every so often one would go off before I could stop it. I would watch as the explosion caused broken fragments of collateral damage to slowly fall to the ground. In those moments I swear you could catch a smirk on my face. Now, please watch as history repeats itself.
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