One time I was driving on the freeway back home and there was this annoyingly slow driver in front of me. So I switched lanes, and he switched into the same lane too. That made me even more annoyed, and I was about to switch lanes again but then he did. I was so angry that I passed him by, but then I saw his face and he looked like a crazy horror movie villan, like Quasimodo meets the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I felt bad that he looked like a murderer and I didn't hate him anymore.
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As I was driving on the freeway, I had an idea on how to become a freelance writer. Here is my idea: I am going to write a "Sex and the City" column for a newspaper (wait for it, wait for it) in Anchorage, Alaska. I feel like I don't even have to explain how genius this is. It's like Neal Pollack meets Carrie Bradshaw meets the last fronteir.
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