Now THIS is pod racing.
The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.
Now THIS is pod racing.
Illegal hotel chain!!!
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Let’s hear it.
Wonder if that CumBox post from Reddit is in there somewhere.
“Unprecedented” and “Slammed”
I read those two words in any article and I’m immediately second guessing my will to read more.
Cancer rope-a-doping us with robots and AI.
Kill me snoo snoo bot.
Well, there are two schools of thought. Smell vs Sound.
I imagine the conversation to start this company went something like this…
He looks like he lives in a coo coo clock.
It’s the only way I can finish.
Is this like new poor? But new old?