The Prize Patrol, Mormons and Jethro Tull

I’d love being the only one to have experienced some event or occurrence, so when someone interrupts my story to say, “I know how you feel. Something like that happened to me,” I can dramatically put my hand to my forehead and say, “That’s not the same. It’s not the same at all. The person in front of you only had eleven items! The one I was trapped behind had fourteen. Fourteen!” Then I’d clutch my pearls and say, “My heavens! I do believe I’ve got the vapors!” just before I collapsed onto that fainting couch I keep meaning to buy.
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