I had such a hankering for fish-n-chips yesterday that I walked down to Fisherman’s Wharf after work.  I went to one of the outdoor stands and for $8 I was served up 5 pieces of deliciously fried fish and some not so tasty chips. I was really only after the fried fish anyway so I tossed the chips into the trash (which would surely be “fished” out later by one of my homeless friends).

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As I was meandering home – and not paying attention to avoid the big hills like I normally do – I could see that I was painting myself into a terrible corner. I zig-zagged through the streets climbing hill after hill until I found myself at the bottom of these Filbert Street steps. Ugh! Let’s just say that I’m more surprised than anyone that defibrillator paddles weren’t called to the scene!

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