The Blog

I Can Recommend: Alone on TV ✅

tracks in snow

The recommendations below also appeared in my weekly newsletter: Ready for Rain, Issue #93 – This is About the Ham.

Alone (Hulu) – We’ve watched six seasons of this show and look forward to more. It’s a reality show where ten survivalists are dropped off in a remote, and often cold location with a selection of supplies and camera gear. Then, they do their best to survive the longest while constantly creating videos of their lives.

It’s a simple premise that feels authentic because there are no games or petty dramas. Most contestants battle hunger, wildlife, and weather, but the real enemy is mental. Loneliness drives people crazy. The longest stay so far is 87 days. Home is one satellite phone call away.

We first learned about the show because a person on neighboring Lopez Island, Nathan Donnelly, was a contestant on season 6. Two summers ago we went camping with a group and he was there. The show had been filmed, but was not yet published. He, of course, was tight lipped about the outcome. We later learned that he was the second person from Lopez to compete. The other one was Callie North. Island people are tough. 🙂

You can get my recommendations in your inbox each week by subscribing to Ready for Rain, below:

This is About the Ham 🐖

The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.

I’ve always helped in the kitchen, but over the pandemic, I have become Sachi’s sous chef. Along with chopping and preparing, I’m learning about flavor and sauces. She’s my teacher and I try to follow instructions. Sometimes the most mundane things, like chopping onions, have a secret technique that makes it easier. 

A few days ago, we came home with a four pound hunk of ham from Costco. It was one big piece of meat, similar in size to a spiral cut holiday ham. Then, yesterday, the power went out as a result of a wind storm and the ham, being fully cooked, started to look like dinner. Preparing for the power outage, Sachi had boiled some somen noodles, which are often served cold with a sesame soy sauce. With the ham and somen, we could have a classic Hawaii dish for dinner. 

Kirkland Ham

It got dark, we lit candles and I concocted brandy drinks with a syrup I made from leftover peach juice and Serrano peppers. We had a couple of drinks to celebrate the novelty of being powerless. Then, just as we got comfortable in the candlelight, the power returned. With a sigh, we moved into the kitchen, five paces away, to make dinner under the lights. 

The ham, sitting as a heap of protein on the counter, was a puzzle to be solved. We needed a portion for dinner, maybe 10% of it. The rest needed to be cut into pieces and stored in the fridge. This is where the discussion began. 

I asked Sachi, “So, how would you approach this?” 

Being the sous chef, I wanted to know what she would do in terms of cutting up the ham. Left on my own, I could certainly do it, but I thought it was a teachable moment. 

At first, she just kind of shrugged, “Whatever you think.” So, I looked at the ham, then at our storage containers. She said, “That one.” pointing to a larger Tupperware. I didn’t think it was large enough, so I brought out two large containers and looked at Sachi as if to say, “These?”

She didn’t respond directly, but she didn’t have to. Her silence in these situations tells a story. She had thoughts, but she was holding them close and letting me squirm, just a bit. I felt it. She clearly wasn’t sure about needing two containers.

This tiny decision about the containers and the ham was the perfect setup for an animated discussion. If you were to watch from afar, you might have thought we were arguing. While these discussions might include a bit of passion, they remain civil and kind-hearted. Behind the words is a genuine competition to verbally outmaneuver the other side. 

Sachi relishes an intellectual battle. She will pick a logical side and stand her ground, just as she did with her brother, Mark, when they were growing up. When the opportunity arises, she expects me to challenge her in the same way. I didn’t grow up with that kind of competition and it took me years to figure out how to fight for an idea with a smile on my face. This was my chance. If you can’t smile about ham, what can you smile about? 

We both looked at the ham on the counter and I asked, again, what she would do. She said, flippantly to my ears, “It’s a puzzle. I think it can fit in the first container.” In our relationship, this is loaded language. I’m famously bad with abstract puzzles and Sachi is famously good. Rather than teaching me how she would approach the ham, I heard in my head, “Dance for me monkey boy – let’s see you solve this puzzle.” Maybe alcohol influenced my perceptions just a bit. 

In my mind, time efficiency mattered. Looking at the ham compared to the first container, there was no way it could fit; a physical impossibility. I declared, “There is NO WAY that will fit!” Left on my own, I would not waste time trying to solve the puzzle when we could just use two containers from the beginning. I could have it done in ten seconds. We both could have left it alone and disengaged, but what’s the fun in that?

Instead, I pleaded my case. Why go to all the trouble of trying to make it fit? It seemed like an inefficient use of time. All the while, Sachi implored me to try. She also argued, correctly, that two containers was an inefficient use of limited space in the fridge.

Instead of settling with, “Fine, just use two containers.”, she kept saying, “Try it, see if it will work.”  I scoffed. There was no way that big ass ham was fitting in the Tupperware. No way. At this point it wasn’t about storing ham as much as the sides we’d picked. 

We both have times, during these discussions, when we’ve exhausted our talking points and it becomes repetitive. Sometimes this provokes a subtle shift where other subjects get wrapped into the main debate. In our discussion about the ham, Sachi brought up a point about cleaning up coffee grounds that felt like one of these extensions. At first, I took it as a grievance about me not cleaning thoroughly and said, “Let’s not go there, this is about the ham.” 

She understood my redirection and seemed to agree. Looking back, this was a strategy I’d never tried before. We were in a debate about ham and as long as it stayed about ham, we could argue and parry without hurt feelings. 

Sachi stuck up for her coffee example by saying it supported her case about the ham. Whether it’s ham or coffee, I often take the easy route versus the most thorough or deliberate route. Point taken. These debates often relate back to the fundamental differences between us. That’s why it was important to me to keep the focus on the ham and not our personalities. A fine line indeed.

We could both feel the discussion coming to an end without a clear winner. The only thing left to do was to solve the puzzle. I grabbed a knife and started cutting up the ham as Sachi prepped other dishes.  

As I cut fist-sized portions and placed them in the Tupperware, the outside of the ham seemed to fill the rounded corners of the container. Four portions covered the bottom with a better fit than I wanted to admit. I kept cutting, all the while looking at what remained and glancing at Sachi. “There’s no way this is going fit”, I thought to myself. Layer by layer, the ham filled the container. Sachi heard me mutter, “No fucking way” as the final pieces of the puzzle filled the Tupperware to the brim with ham. It was going to be close. 

I was prepared to eat crow, but held out hope. The container still needed the lid to fit properly! Only by successfully affixing the lid could we be sure that the ham fit. That was a rule I made up on the spot. I tried once with no luck. Then, I shuffled the top few puzzle pieces and tried again. Sachi smiled, or maybe it was a smirk, I’m not sure.

The successful click of the lid snapping into place was met with more profanity from me and laughter that forced Sachi into a chair to recover. I hadn’t seen her laugh that hard in months.

In some ways this was the perfect ending. She won, but it didn’t feel like I lost. My approach was emblematic of my personality, but the debate was about the logistics of storing ham. In the end, the winner was clear and I could laugh about losing because it wasn’t really about me. It was about the ham.

Podcast Interview with Rodney Flowers of Game Changer Mentality

This was such an interesting and fun interview. Part of the reason is Rodney’s smooth and confident demeanor. He’s composed and understated, but speaks with great confidence. By the end of the interview, I felt like we were friends. I hope you’ll give the show a listen. You can also read the interview on his blog.

An interview between Lee LeFever and Rodney Flowers on his Game Change

Learn more about my books, Big Enough and The Art of Explanation, which were featured in the interview.

I Can Recommend: 2-8-21 ✅

sea lions and mount baker

The recommendations below also appeared in my weekly newsletter: Ready for Rain, Issue #92 – Hibernating in the PNW

The theme for this week’s recommendations: school girl comedies and con artists.

  • Derry Girls (Netflix) – A comedy about Catholic school teenagers in Northern Ireland during the peak of the IRA in the 80s. It’s an odd mix of history, family drama, and hilariously off-color dialogue.

  • Pen15 (Hulu) – Forgive me, but I’m recommending another comedy about school girls. This time it’s the story of two best friends in 7th grade, played by adults Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle. It’s cringy and hilarious. It gets extra points in our house because Maya is half-Japanese, like Sachi, and it’s a large part of the story.

  • Chameleon (10 episode podcast) – I love stories about con artists and this one is fascinating and easily bingeable. It follows the story of someone preying on Hollywood strivers in odd and mysterious ways.

  • The Confidence Game (Book) Speaking of con artists, I enjoyed this book by Maria Konnikova which dissects all the ways con artists take advantage of others.

You can get my recommendations in your inbox each week by subscribing to Ready for Rain, below:

Hibernating in the PNW ☔️ 🦠

The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.


This morning I donned a puffy jacket and took the dogs out to our little ramshackle dog run on the side of the guesthouse. Once we were outside, I noticed something odd. The little area of concrete where I stand and wait for the dogs was dry and lightly colored. There was no drip from the roof onto the top of my head. It was chilly and windy, but dry.

That sounds unremarkable. But for this time of year in the pacific northwest, dry concrete is hard to come by. I noticed the same thing when we lived in Seattle. We get so used to wet roads and sidewalks that we notice when they’re dry. They seem so fresh and clean.

I’ve always looked forward to the arrival of the rain in October of each year. After a long, sunny summer, I’m ready for a more interior lifestyle. I want to build fires and light candles and finish the evening with a thumb of whisky. It’s the season of hygge, the Danish tradition of coziness and togetherness in winter. 

This winter is different for most people, but not because of the weather. Usually, the refuge from the rain is not only the warmth of home, but people. I have such fond memories of dinner parties and game nights that felt extra cozy with rain beating on the skylights and fire in the fireplace. We will surely return to those days, but for now, they seem far away.

We recently had a spontaneous evening beer on the porch of a local brewery. We hadn’t been there since the pandemic started and purchased beer from a walk-up window into what was formerly a small indoor bar. It was pleasantly dark and we sat on cold wooden benches, between puddles and drank a pint that remained cold and refreshing from top to bottom. It felt like a treat. Just doing something, even in the cold and without friends, felt like a step in the right direction. Look at us! We’re not at home! 

When we returned, the dogs greeted us and we settled in, just like any other night, snug in our chairs. I’ve started to think about our little guest house as a den, where we wait out the winter, the pandemic, and the house project. 20 months in, it feels like home, but I’m sure we’ll look back on these days with a sense of wonder. It’s one thing to be quarantining. It’s yet another to be quarantining in a tiny apartment set on 18 isolated acres, on a rural island, during a PNW winter, while building a house. 

We’ll hibernate for a bit longer and then emerge ready for spring, which can’t arrive soon enough. My only concern is emerging with thicker insulation than when it started. We won’t be alone. 

For now, from our den, we can anticipate a spring spent living in the house we’ve thought about for so long. It’s hard not to imagine quarantining there instead of the guest house. Part of what’s missing today is a place to be outside that’s comfortable and dry. It would be the only way we could have had friends over this winter. Of course, that space exists just down the road, but it’s not quite ready.  

Now is the season of anticipation for us all. No matter what happens with public health, the days will get longer, the temperature will slowly creep up and the flowers will bloom. We can always count on the change of seasons to change us, too. When we finally emerge from the winter, we’ll have lived through a dark period of history that will serve as a contrast to the light. This hibernation is one for the ages.

My hope is that there is still time to salvage the 2020’s. After a rough start, I’m hoping that all the uncertainty and fear will be replaced by a widespread sense of hope and optimism that’s been pent-up for too long. Once it’s released, the 20s may roar, just as they did a century ago. I, for one, will be ready. 

I Can Recommend: 2-2-21 ✅

sea lions and mount baker

The recommendations below also appeared in my weekly newsletter: Ready for Rain, Issue #91 – Because It’s Cool

We’ve been re-watching movies from the not-so-distant past, so that’s my focus this week.

  • Lost in Translation (Amazon) – A top ten movie for me. Scarlett Johansson (who was 17 at the time) and Bill Murray connect in Tokyo. Director Sofia Coppola beautifully captures the strange experience of being a famous American in a strange land.

  • Swingers (HBO Max) – Classic 90s L.A. comedy with Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau. I can’t see Favreau today without thinking he’s a grown up version of Mikey.

  • Intolerable Cruelty (Amazon) – A lesser-known and lesser-loved Coen Brother movie that we both have seen many times. Such great writing and hilarious characters. Catherine Zeta-Jones and George Clooney star.

You can get my recommendations in your inbox each week by subscribing to Ready for Rain, below:

Because It’s Cool 😎

I like to think of myself as someone who forms his own opinions. You know, the kind of guy who knows what he likes and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. 

The older I am, the more I realize that being that person is not natural for me. While I certainly have opinions, I am prone to leaning on the opinions of others or allowing their opinions to become my own. This is especially true if the opinion comes from someone I respect or admire.

I’m not alone. Popular culture is a constant churn of opinions being adopted and discarded, often based on the perspectives of influential people. I’ve always had a keen eye for the churn; what’s in or out; what’s cool right now, or not. It seems like a kind of innate sensitivity I noticed when I was young and choosing to dress a particular way or listen to a specific band. I noticed. I cared, and honestly, I wanted people to know that I cared. 

Lee as a child

For most of my life, I never understood this about myself, or how it impacted me. That all changed when I met Sachi, who does not have the same sensitivity. The churn of pop culture has always been an enigma to her. She tells stories of growing up with friends who made collages from the pages of teen magazines, with boys and bands. They would slide carefully selected photos and stickers into their folders. She had no idea where to start. It wasn’t in her to care and without the sensitivity, she could go through the motions, but not feel it. Unlike me, this perspective meant she was able to form opinions that were authentically her own.

This difference between us eventually bubbled to the surface and has become a subject of ongoing conversation. The discussions we’ve had, could not have happened without bringing something real, yet mostly unspoken, to the surface. Once it came out into the open, it changed how I looked at myself. 

It started with a simple question, asked by Sachi, when I was about to make a commitment, like a purchase: “Why do you like that?” In this context, she’s not questioning my tastes as much as my reasoning. She’s implicitly asking, “Do you truly like this, or do you want to be the kind of person who likes it?” 

This question exposed a reality that I wasn’t prepared to admit to myself. I am sometimes driven not by a sense of objective quality or beauty, but because I think it’s cool and I want to be cool. The real answer to Sachi’s question, more than I want to admit, is “I like it because it’s cool right now.” 

Cool as a Force

Once I realized this about myself, I couldn’t help but see it everywhere I looked. The word is constantly on everyone’s lips. Think about how often you hear “that’s so cool!” My bet is you, too, have considered coolness in making a decision. 

Across cultures and classes, the desire to be cool is everywhere. Yet, it’s mostly unspoken at a personal level. Perhaps it’s difficult to admit that coolness is the goal because trying too hard to be cool is… uncool. I’m obviously painting with a wide brush and I recognize this isn’t everyone’s perspective. But I also believe coolness is a great unspoken force that’s behind more of our decisions than we want to admit.  

Let’s get back to my relationship with Sachi. Once I was able to admit that I was driven by coolness, we both started to pay more attention. The weight of trying to be cool without admitting it was finally lifted and I was liberated. I could talk with her about why I think something is cool, or not. We could explore the idea together and ask: what’s at the heart of this fundamental difference between us? 

What’s interesting about Sachi is that she’s not trying to be cooler than cool. She never decided to ignore pop culture or intentionally go against the trends. I describe it like this: Sachi has zero punk rock. Coolness is just something she can’t see, like a kind of cool color blindness. She has said before that she can’t help me pick new shoes because they “all look alike”. I find that fascinating. 

A few years ago we were about to go out and Sachi asked what shoes she should wear. I said the Chuck Taylors would look good. Sachi then looked at a shelf of shoes which held two different colors of Chuck Taylor shoes and asked me, “Which ones are the Chuck Taylors?” I was astounded and asked her “How in the fuck do you not know which ones are the Chuck Taylors?” She shrugged and chuckled and asked, earnestly “Does everyone know Chuck Taylors?”, “YES” I said emphatically, everyone our age knows Chuck Taylors, but you. Everyone.” Since then, we’ve asked all our friends. Yes, they all know Chuck Taylors. 

Another example is music, which is a continual source of discussion about coolness. Popular music, like pop culture, constantly churns and one of my favorite pastimes is exploring and discovering a new sound. Part of the process is knowing what influential people think is cool. For Sachi, it just doesn’t compute. She has zero interest in adopting new music because other people think it’s cool (except perhaps me, and that’s a struggle). So, she sticks to oldies and I play albums over and over to condition her into liking them. 

While she can’t see shoes or music in the context of coolness, she has an amazing eye for home design and finishes. She can thoughtfully critique music, poetry, and economic trends. Yet, when it comes to making a personal choice related to current fashion, or what others might think is cool, she feels flummoxed and always has. She’s spent her life feeling frustrated by these decisions and for many years, I thought I could help develop her sense of style, but came up empty. It’s bigger than that. I now feel it’s like trying to teach a blind person to see. 

This SNL skit is the closest thing I’ve seen to capturing Sachi’s experience with clothes.   

What’s the Point Here?

I don’t have a big thesis. I am just fascinated by human nature and believe that we’re all more different than we realize. We all have blindnesses and sensitivities that make us who we are. And often, these are not things we can control or even recognize about ourselves.

What Sachi and I found is a way to bring the differences to the surface so they can be inspected and analyzed. It was a revelation to admit to Sachi (and myself) that I’m driven by what’s cool, even if the admission itself is uncool. Discussing Sachi’s blindness to coolness helped explain a lifetime of insecurities about clothes and fashion. We are very different people and by understanding the differences, we can find the best ways to work together. 

We’re not unique. Blindnesses and sensitivities help us all interpret reality, even if we don’t realize it. If we look just below the surface, we might find parts of ourselves that we never noticed before. They may seem embarrassing to admit, or unreasonable, and that’s fine. The key is understanding that they’re a part of us that may not change. Instead of fighting against them, consider how to use them to your advantage.

Podcast Interview with Mike Rhode at Sketchnote Army

Mike Rhode and I go way back and it was a pleasure to reconnect with him on the Sketchnote Army podcast and discuss communication, creative work, and explainer videos.

What we covered in the show:

  • Intro: Who is Lee?
  • Lee’s origin story with explainer videos
  • The value of partnering with others
  • How Common Craft operates now
  • Valuing clear, interesting, surprising information
  • Importance of writing in Lee’s creative process
  • Using story to share principles in a clear way
  • The Common Craft process
  • Book: The Art of Explanation
  • How embracing constraints liberates you
  • Book: Big Enough
  • Quality of life defining success
  • The importance of sustainability
  • Productivity culture
  • How the pandemic changed time perceptions
  • Time is the new wealth
  • Tools
  • Handwriting thank you notes
  • 3 tips
  • Outro

Thanks for having me on the show!

All my podcast interviews

Why Time is the New Wealth

When historians look back on the transformation of 2020, the dominant stories will involve politics and public health. And rightly so. But there is another transformation that is happening on a smaller, more personal scale. It’s happening in living rooms, home offices and in the minds of people whose lives have been changed by circumstance. That transformation is based on the concept of time and specifically, the emergence of time as a form of wealth and an ingredient in our quality of life.

I recently had a phone conversation with a colleague. Our business discussion veered into the personal and she said something that stuck with me regarding being quarantined. She said, despite all the horrible things that are happening, that she’s never been happier. She doesn’t want to go back to the way things were.

A friend described a similar situation regarding his move in 2018. He and his family moved from California to an island off the coast of Washington State for his work at a non-profit organization. He said that it was a relief for them because their lives had become so cluttered with obligations that they were constantly busy and weren’t happy. Moving was a clean break from their busy-ness and they didn’t want that version of their lives to happen again.

I, too, felt this way. Despite having worked from home since 2003, I felt liberated by the mandate to stay home and enjoyed not having so many plans. Whether it’s via a pandemic or an interstate move, we felt the burden of being busy and were relieved to see it wash away. We became richer with time.

Busy-ness and Quality of Life

In the era before COVID, a lack of time was a strange badge of honor for some people. They could never be spontaneous because their lives were scheduled weeks ahead with meetings, soccer practice, and dinners. They rushed from one event to another and watching them, I couldn’t help but wonder: Is this version of life what they want?

For some, it can be. A strong work ethic and a feeling of responsibility to others is healthy and productive. Others are driven by the need to attain wealth that provides them the quality of life they desire. Again, not a bad thing. If a person chooses a lifestyle that matches their values, I applaud them.

The problem, from my perspective, is when people who are fortunate to have a choice don’t realize it or haven’t considered how time factors into their quality of life. Because financial wealth is commonly connected to success, time can seem trivial, or expendable. Why would anyone focus on time when money is how success is measured?

Today, as we hopefully look toward the end of the pandemic, I believe that a new perspective is emerging. By disrupting our lives, COVID-19 created an opportunity to re-think what matters and how time relates to our own versions of success.

You, Transformed

This brings me back to the transformation. The happiness many of us felt while quarantined came from finally being free from busy-ness and obligations. Instead of spending our time according to someone else’s calendar, we could be in more control. And that control is addictive. We don’t want to go back to our pre-pandemic lifestyles because it means less autonomy. Money still matters, but time has new value and relevance.

As I wrote in BIG ENOUGH:

Now more than ever, I believe that time is the new wealth, and in the future, it will be more valuable than money to many. It will be the element that people strive to control and design into their lives because it’s a source of real satisfaction and freedom. Unlike money, time can’t be piled up and spent later. Every day it slips through your fingers. Further, time can be acquired by making up your mind. You can decide to have more time and that means consciously designing it into your daily life.

But it’s not that easy. Seeking to be wealthy with time requires dedication, willpower, and acceptance of the trade-offs that are necessary. If you’ve found that time has more value than you expected, and you want more of it, you have to choose it with intention.

Seven Tips for Becoming Rich With Time

In 2008, when my company, Common Craft, had a variety of opportunities to grow, we committed ourselves to staying small and testing ways the business could earn a profit and contribute to our quality of life. For us, that meant remaining in control of our time. The list below summarizes the personal lessons were learned in that period.

  1. Design time into your life through constraints. This means setting limits on your obligations and designating free time on the calendar. For example, no meetings on Tuesdays. No social engagements on Thursdays. You are just not available then. That time is taken. How you use it is up to you.
  2. Become comfortable saying “no”. This is not easy. We don’t want to disappoint others or lose an opportunity. It takes practice, but once you feel the power of “no”, it will become a strength that you can wield to great effect. You’re sorry, but your schedule doesn’t allow for that right now.
  3. Adjust your expectations. You have been transformed. Money matters and you want to be financially successful, but the real goal is having time to live the life that makes you happy. Unlike a new car that outwardly shows success, an abundance of time leads to a kind of satisfaction that’s personal and intrinsic.
  4. Forget the Joneses. You have something they don’t. You have a wealth of time that relates to the freedom to do what you want, when you want. That’s what matters.
  5. Understand the trade-offs. If you value time, consider what you’re willing to trade to have more of it. Would you accept lower pay if a new job had better hours and a shorter commute? Would you be okay with fewer social engagements if it meant being more autonomous?
  6. Become an evangelist. You’ve discovered something new and interesting. Share it. Talk to people about what you’ve learned about yourself and how you’re changing. They might be inspired to join you, or at least understand your perspective.
  7. Revel in your freedom. Do something interesting or, do nothing at all. That’s the secret. You are in control and have a choice. That’s the new wealth of time.

Big Enough, is a book about building a business that makes time and quality of life a shareholder value. If you’re an aspiring entrepreneur or career-changer, it will be a breath of fresh air.

I Can Recommend: 1-26-21 ✅

Sand Sculpture

The recommendations below also appeared in my weekly newsletter: Ready for Rain, Issue #90 – What Does It Want To Be?

  • Hotel Mumbai (Hulu) – A gripping and action-packed film that recounts the true story of terrorists who took over the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel in Mumbai for three days in 2008. Stars Dev Patel.

  • James May: Our Man in Japan (Amazon) – A charming look at Japan from the eyes of James May, who is known for being the co-host of Top Gear. Easy and fun.

  • Jungle (Amazon) – Harry Potter gets lost… wait. Daniel Radcliffe plays a young adventurer who follows a supposed guide into the Bolivian jungle with two friends. Based on the memoir of Yossi Ghinsberg. It’s a little bit like Deliverance, without the hillbillies.

  • Me Mail Apple iOS App – I collect information that I need to remember in my inbox. I send myself emails that include things like blog posts ideas, things to get at the store, etc. Me Mail is an app that makes sending an email to yourself as simple as possible – just open the app, write a message and tap a button. It lives on my home screen.

You can get my recommendations in your inbox each week by subscribing to Ready for Rain, below:

Lee LeFever Headshot

About Me

I write books and run a company called Common Craft. I recently moved from Seattle to a rural island. Here, I write about online business, book publishing, modern home construction, and occasionally, dumb jokes.

My Books

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