Meet Fred. Meet George.   I hate them both. Totally interchangeable hatred; one left, one right, mirror twins. Totally interchangeable names. I knew a man who hated sheep, he said that sheep have only one raison d'etre which is to die in the most inconvenient place possible. Fred and George must have been sheep in a previous life.   Now they are just sticks. Metal sticks with plastic cuffs and hand-shaped branches, whose sole purpose is to crash to the floor as frequently and...

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