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No, seriously. Phil Pfister, the 2006 World’s Strongest Man, is my BFF.



Which explains why when I attended a pinning ceremony for nursing graduates in the big city this weekend and came across the Strongman at the event, first I grabbed a pic of his butt. Then I got the back of his head. Then his butt again.
Finally all the stalking paid off! Doughnut in hand, despite his busy schedule of running with telephone poles and turning over cars, he stopped mid-munch to have his picture taken with me! Yes, really, he turns over cars.
If he hadn’t had to finish that doughnut, I’m sure he would have carried me around on his shoulders for a minute. Or picked me up with his pinky. Cuz we are tight, I’m telling you, tight.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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