Some mornings I like to read the paper with my dad. I don't totally know what all those tiny little symbols mean, and if you ask me, the pictures would be in color, and they would dangle from little strings and rattle or squeak when you touched them, but I guess no one asked me. If I'm not mistaken, we are reading the sports page here - quite possibly yet another sad story about the Mets. Oh, the Mets. They like to torture us, those little people in orange and blue.
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