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A Story from My Childhood
When I was in primary school, I had a friend who was stupid. One day, as we were playing, he sat on a flowerbed, which was actually some cacti with thorns so tiny we couldn't see them. His shorts were covered in thorns. Immediately he shouted, grabbed his behind, and began to cry as he stroked it, covering his hands in tiny thorns. Even if I told him that the thorns were invisible but still there, he compulsively licked his hands anyway. The thought occurred to me that we should stop being friends.
When I was in primary school, I had a friend who was stupid. One day, as we were playing, he sat on a flowerbed, which was actually some cacti with thorns so tiny we couldn't see them. His shorts were covered in thorns. Immediately he shouted, grabbed his behind, and began to cry as he stroked it, covering his hands in tiny thorns. Even if I told him that the thorns were invisible but still there, he compulsively licked his hands anyway. The thought occurred to me that we should stop being friends.
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