This is a picture of my actual apartment blowing up oh so many moons ago.
When I got to the building I told the fire chief what room I lived in. He then said into his walkie talkie, “I found the guy who lived in that room. He’s not dead.”
I lost my favourite paddle, a collection of excellent books and an Xmas stocking that my long since deceased Aunt Betty made for me. Everything else was replaced.
This happened April 5, 2005.
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