In third grade (just after moving to Anchorage, Alaska; a strange place, and I knew there were bears in Alaska) I thought werewolves were real. See, there was this paperback book in the school's library about supernatural mysteries of the world. On the back of the book it said that all the stories inside were "100% true!". So after reading the story about the guy in Poland who was attacked by a half-man half beast while taking the garbage out, I was terrified every time I had to take the garbage out. The dumpster was on the edge of the trailer court at the edge of a dark, scary woods.
I also thought my dad's '76 AMC Pacer was the coolest car ever.
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If puns were sausages, this would be the wurst.
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