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An old man turned ninety-eight, he won the lottery and died the next day. It's a black fly in your chardonnay, it's a death row pardon two minutes too late isn't it ironic... Don't you think? A traffic jam when you're already late, a no-smoking sign on your cigarette break, it's like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife, it's meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife