Sorry, partner. Time, once again, to dispense the Doan's pills with my scores.
191-233-237=661
Suddenly, everybody in the city is shooting lights out except for me. My carry was terrible with every pill in the bag.
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House Hack. Nothing more. Nothing less. And, according to my therapist, that's not so bad.
If nothing is what the situation mandates, I'm the man for the job.