The man seems pleasant, until I notice the earwax. I follow him off the train and clean his ear with my knife before I cut his throat. I can’t stand earwax. I go home and change; I’m late for work. Bob tells me off again. Pity his ears are clean.
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Digital Crumble
Celui là, il arrache. C'est un de mes préférés.
Je comprends rien à tes commentaires, ça s'affiche pas ici.