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we ate.
Our baseball team is not so good. Today at practice I counted a hundred and fifty unforced errors in the first hour and the guys at batting practice were even worse. Six of the first eight batters struck out seven times before they got a hit, and most of the hits weren't anything more than foul balls.

I love to play the game, but watching a bunch of lazy guys who don't care a lick about playing it well is just about as boring as watching Tribble lick his nuts. It's sloppy and, while it looks like fun for him, it's doesn't do anything for me.

My walking off didn't make any mind to anyone, I walked down to my bike and pedaled on home and then walked over to the ceramic shop just as Ms. Harriet was pulling a pizza out of one of her kilns.

Terry, Alex, Lesley, and Ms. Harriet asked me to sit with them and the rest of the ceramics class. I said that Momma would be expecting me and Ms. Harriet said she'd call and tell her where I was if I wanted, and I said yes, and then we ate.

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