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January, 1969. I fail to secure the family fortune by predicting longshot outcomes of the Super Bowl and World Series.
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March 2000: I don't avoid the crash.
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| I'm closing my investment accounts, putting my money in a small metal tube, and inserting it in my rectum. That'll be far less painful. | |
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September, 2002. I am asked to pull out my crystal 8-ball once again.
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| And you expect me to predict my future? Sorry, no can do. | |
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