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I ran into a big root on my mountain bike and ate dirt, resulting in a broken hand.
The next time I rode to class, with a cast on my hand, I ran into a lesabre, of the Buick variety that ran a stop sign. I monkey rolled like Sniper over the hood and ended up on my feet. I wasn't hurt, but almost pulled out my cold steel katanna and finished the driver off.
Ok, maybe I didn't almost show my mall ninja skills, but I did walk to class because my front wheel was taco'ed.
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