Up it goes, wedged in with dreary texts on machines lopping open men and removing certain organs soiled by cancer. My autobiography. Currently No. 7 and certain to rise higher. Of this, I am certain. And, yes, it is still available in glossy ebook format. Who knew cancer could be so profitable? I'd settle for a number of dry days, but those are the wishes of yesterday. Still, modest literary note is delightful and I'm going to continue saying as much.
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