Once the Philadelphia Phillies first baseman John Kruk was sitting at a sidewalk beer garden drinking beer and smoking a cigarette in all of his Ruthian obesity.
"And you call yourself an athlete!" sniffed a woman passing by.
"Lady, I'm not an athlete," Kruk came back, "I'm a baseball player."
In a similar mood, it occured to me the other day as I cursed the limitations of my own intellect:
I'm not a thinker, Goddamnit. I'm a writer.
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Thanks, I’m going to have nightmares tonight.