That feeling when the bandaid on your finger slips off the plunger for one of your three nasal sprays effectively causing you to punch yourself in the nose.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
No fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
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That feeling when the bandaid on your finger slips off the plunger for one of your three nasal sprays effectively causing you to punch yourself in the nose.