When one considers the many missteps that one has taken over the course of a lifetime, like, for instance, blowing off a college education in order to be a second-rate guitarist in third-rate Ramada Inn bar bands that play unfortunate renditions of "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown," or throwing away almost an entire decade trapped inside a religious cult that promises to turn one into a happy, super-duper spirit ala Casper the Friendly Ghost all while one is dying of ulcerative colitis, or blowing up a perfectly good marriage because one is just stupid, or creating sitcoms that star actresses who are unhappy about the size of their penises, well then, it's easy to see how one might come to believe that "what doesn't kill us, makes us bitter." But it's still no excuse for referring to oneself as "one." That's just obnoxious.
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