“Don’t cry for me Argentina, I have lived a life better than over 98% of North Korea.”

It was weird. I was at the animal shelter against my better judgment. Currently, I was standing still on a broken treadmill, not even pretending to move forward, surrounded by a sea of depression. My girlfriend, Lori, left me for an older man. In most cases, it wouldn’t matter who it was, but here, in the now; it was fucking Don Henley. Yes, the very same drummer/vocalist of Eagles fame. Yet, I digress.

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