Notes from the Small Pond...Now that you mention it
…speaking of addiction, since we’re talking about it, there was this old guy, when I was a kid, who used to wobble around town spitting in the street and talking to himself. He wore green work pants. My mom used to tell me to not talk to the guy, that he was “a drunk” and that I and my brothers should stay away from him, and so we did, mostly.
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