In 2013, modern medicine confirmed what many of my exes had long suspected: I have an atrial septal defect, otherwise known as "ASD" or a hole in the heart.
When faced with this potentially life altering medical condition, there was only one course of action I could take. Fly to France, forge the required medical certificate for the Paris Marathon, participate in said marathon (which I only ran 13 miles of, I mean, let's be practical, I did have a hole in my heart) and then travel on to Amsterdam.
Amsterdam was an easy destination match for an ASD diagnosis. With its cannabis coffee shops and red-light district, the Dutch seem like the sort of people who are likely to appreciate my genetic inclination to pass out in bars.
Amsterdam was an easy destination match for an ASD diagnosis. With its cannabis coffee shops and red-light district, the Dutch seem like the sort of people who are likely to appreciate my genetic inclination to pass out in bars.
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