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Yesterday, I saw (and heard!) a 91-year-old woman go through a glass table. 91. Through it. Since this was a metal-framed table topped with old, untempered glass, it’s a miracle she didn’t break her hip or bleed to death on the spot.

Given that I was standing in line at the post office at the time, waiting to mail in my even-more-painful-than-usual tax return (the three people who know what I’m talking about are grimacing right now) and morbidly trying to figure out what percentage of my taxes would go to pay for more Border Patrol television ads (“The Border Patrol–No mission more important, more challenging, or more rewarding!”)…well, I’ll just let you fill in your own metaphor.

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