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the dank knight
There is nothing. Only warm, primordial blackness. Your conscience ferments in it — no larger than a single grain of malt. You don't have to do anything anymore. Ever. Never ever.An inordinate amount of time passes. It is utterly void of struggle. No ex-wives are contained within it[...] The song of death is sweet and endless... But what is this? Somewhere in the sore, bloated *man-meat* around you — a sensation![...] The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.— Ancient Reptilian Brain
grooming much
When no one was looking, Lex Luthortook forty cakes. He took 40 cakes.That's as many as four tens.And that's terrible.