HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY to the only man who sold me for a fez, left me for 'dead' at Brighton Beach, successfully dutch ovened me while I'm sober, cleaned sick out of my hair when I'm not, carried a mattress and box-spring up the steps of my fucking dodgy 5th-floor flat, given me jobs when I was broke, fired me for the 'right reasons', made spag hoops
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