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It just isn't your eyes. In the '60s I was making a round of clubs in Tujuana with a couple of other guys. On the way back to the border, we stopped at a hole-in-the-wall torta shop where I ate two tortas (25 cents each). The guy also set a small bowl of jalapenos down with each torta, which I ate all of. The next morning when I went, bleery eyed, into the bathroom and sat down, I let out a healthy moan of pain.
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Marv Evans
'69 911E
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