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Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, eat a lump of frozen antifreeze, push the car to the filling station, wait in line for three weeks for a thimble of 6 octane petrol, pay the shop owner for permission to come to work, work twenty-nine hours a day welding Edsel bodies to Willys chassis, and when we got home, our Dad would run us over with the Commodore Club Coupe, and dance about on our graves singing "Hallelujah."
But you try and tell the young people today that and they won't believe ya'.
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