Years Past, Still Crazy

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Most of my memories are a blur, but I still remember one in particular.

When I was at the age of five, I woke up one day with a truck on my face. Yeah, a big toy truck, bigger than my bootyful face. I recently came back from the hospital because I had a fight with Michael which eventually led him to bite the side of my stomach. Told you, crazy. The bite, I believe, got infected. But that dumb brother of mine probably didn't brush his teeth and tried to take a bite of my meat. (Hungry? Eat a Snickers!) I couldn't even feel my sides because the doctor injected me with a shot to numb the pain or something. The shot made me drowsy and so, I fell asleep. Which, like I said, I woke up with a truck on my face, a big blue truck. Michael used to sit on the truck and roll it around the house. I obviously cried since in was heavy and hurt really bad. My mom came ans took the truck and threw it in the trash. I guess she had enough of some of his nonsense.


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