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No-Nathan November

Dec. 2, 2013—That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. William Shakespeare wrote fondly of autumn, as did many other very accomplished and eloquent poets. None, however, described autumn with...

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Giving Blood

Feb. 10, 2012—Howdy, Internet! After my streak of critically acclaimed, New York Times bestseller blogs, I found myself devoid of the creativity, the drive, the spark that usually inspires me to such heights of blogging genius. At the beginning of this year, as described in a previous article about cows, I accidentally joined Vandy Red Cross, a...

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