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Ha! A teenage Anthony could talk his way out of anything. I swear to you, if he went to hell he could convince Beelzebub to let him out, and if he went through heaven’s gates he might convince the little baby Jesus to let him go enjoy a quick little afternoon in hell to get his ya-yas out, as long as he promised to be back by dinnertime.
Acid for the Children: A Memoir
by Flea
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