Finally, we can now learn the secret of the 1.7 positions Cosmopolitan magazine has not told us about in its 122 years of publication.
My prediction: something involving bungee jumping and an elephant.
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In which I attempt to commit every blogging sin: writing incessantly about local trivia, sex, religion, and boring personal memories; giving unsolicited advice; offending all who read through crass assumptions. The works.
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