Her head was lolling gangsters 1977 in sports

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Her head was lolling back on the window sill as usual and she was snoring heavily. My sister told me to go and have a close look at the back of her head. I 1977 in sports tiptoed over and oh, the joy, the 1977 in sports fierce joy as the mystery 1977 in sports of the sore was revealed. On the window sill, behind the precise spot my mother always sat to smoke, drink, berate us and then pass out, there was a small, plump, cactus plant. And every night, my mother would pass out, and every night her neck would fall right back on that cactus. Hence the mysterious sore. We never moved it. It died at some point, the sore went away, and we had one less little victory in our lives. Anyway, I went to university because I was supposed to. I drifted aimlessly through a law degree while snarling with socialist ferocity at my fellow students, who all seemed to be related to the Sultan of Brunei in some way and drove their gleaming white Mercedes to college.
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