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  • February 8Minor League Ballpark Bans Peanut Sales to Cater to Fans with Allergies

  • February 8Hall of Famer and Baseball's First Black Manager Frank Robinson Dies at Age 83

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A Wild Goose-Chase

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Drats! I’ve been bamboozled by that repugnant creature yet again. I lay such convoluted traps that one would conclude that this furry, petite, varmint would not be able to elude my traps. Somehow it does. Every blasted time! It’s almost like it is more clever than I. The cheese it swipes, the peanut butter it digests, the glue it evades nimbly, and it has outsmarted I. It’s come to the point that I have almost become demented and disillusioned.


I shall get the last laugh you misshapen thing if it’s the last thing I do. I plop down on my genial chair and attempt to conceive a masterful plan.  What shall I do? How shall I compose a plan to finally catch such an intelligent animal. ‘Tis been a wild goose-chase for quite some time now and I am absolutely revolted by this whole ordeal.


Ah! I shriek with elation. I’ve concocted a plan that would exterminate these abysmal things for quite some time. I know they will be petrified to step their little foot in my house again. I snatch my wallet and open the car door. I put my keys in and drive to the nearest repository that sells creatures. I pick out my furline and pay a hefty price of $175 for my doomsday weapon. His name shall be Tom. Tom the furline. Bouncing with joy I come home with Tom and my torture shall be over! It takes nearly two days for Tom to capture it. I have finally outsmarted the varmint.

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A Wild Goose-Chase