As the rain continued to threaten on that cloudy Sunday afternoon, there was one more mural other than the dragon in Hillsboro Village that I was intent on seeing. That one can be described by four words alone: "I Believe in Nashville."
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I awoke Saturday morning and was pleasantly surprised to discover that I hadn't died during the previous evening's shenanigans. Looking around, however, I did notice the yellow mustard stain on my pants, which had been hastily discarded on the floor some eight hours earlier.
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