It took sinking into seat 18C and hurtling through the heavens to remind me.
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In other words...throw me a bone! The deadline is fast approaching.
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The odds of having a great Whistler weekend increase exponentially if you start by sabering…
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And now that I've managed to par-tay like it's 1989...well...who knows what's next?
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It's as basic as a cat looking for the sunny patch on the floor.
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