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Sunday started out as usual, a lightly toasted onion bagel, cream cheese, coffee and the LA Times. Never would I have believed that my entire life would be thrown topsy turvy within a few minutes.

I was reading the bad news of my Orioles double header loss to the White Sox when I glimpsed a blur of black and orange fly past my window. Had an oriole found it's way to California? When it landed I could see it was not an oriole but it did carry the colors of my team.

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After he landed he stared through the window then boomed in a clear deep bass voice. "Sir, get up off that chair and check your garden, especially those rascally tomatos."

All I could do was stare.

"Sir, I said move it and I mean now !" squawked the ersatz oriole.

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Once I reached my tomato patch, I could not believe my eyes. All the tomatos were doing it. And I mean IT it with a capital F.

A male with erect wawadoo, a female with a shaved wawazoom going for it and a talking bird should have been the high point of my day but that was only the begining.

Later that day my lady decided to make some BLTs and as a joke used the male tomato on my sandwich. It was delicious even though it was slightly saltier than any tomato I had eaten before.

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All was fine until I was pulled awake from my afternoon nap by a louding ripping sound. The one eyed head of the biggest johnson I had ever seen was staring me down and the other end was attached to me.In case you don't believe, I took a picture of it. Since this is a family spot, I did not do a full frontal view but only a shadow picture.

True story. I swear on my four foot johnson. True story.

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