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I’m asking everyone in the bullpen if the heater is broke.
They look at me like I’m nuts.
Not a far stretch, I know.
I’m so hot, I can hardly breathe.
All of a sudden, I look up at Jim and he smiles.
Oh man, I know what it is now.
Jim’s turning up my furnace.
He doesn't do it on purpose.
He just does.
He loves making me too warm.
I’m his furnace.
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