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FullSizeRender (3)When you have a twelve pack of cheap beer that’s been outside since the beginning of last football season the only thing you can do with it is shake up each individual can and line them up to be shot from across the pond by a nine-year-old who that very day has also learned to drive the golf cart that’s named Anne’s Hog because it’s a Harley and the little boy’s great grandmother is named Anne, of course, who’s husband is Bill who named their firstborn, a son, Bill who grew up to have his very own son named Bill but he also had a daughter and I wooed her and married her before she figured out what was happening and we have two children, one of whom is a little girl who got startled by a loud sound and fell off a baby swing she’s far too big to be sitting in when lightning struck a tree behind the pond that’s about 100 yards behind the cottage where the little girl was sitting on the porch with her brother who is the same little boy who was taking shots at shook up cans of beer that nobody wanted to drink anymore on the other side of a pond that’s not the same pond that’s behind the cottage though this pond is also situated in a real pretty spot which I consider really pretty because of the tree line and the grass around this pond which is coming in nicely considering it was just planted this season because this pond was only dug last fall around the same time the target beers were purchased most likely though no one really knows for sure when Uncle Jim bought those beers and put them in one of those reusable grocery bags that everyone forgets at home when they go to the grocery store but we’re confident that the timeframe was indeed last fall and that’s something I would argue in favor of if I got backed into the corner on the topic which I don’t anticipate happening on account of how inconsequential this whole thing really is but even so I must maintain my purpose and stress the legitimacy of us taking those beers, shaking them and then firing upon them until every last one exploded putting a smile on the little boy’s face that’s very similar to the smile he wears when he’s driving Anne’s Hog.

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