there's a siphon in your tepid neighborhood arrangement ruthlessly buggering you with information about a dog, pop-art, an agenda, et al. and there you are, still scrolling and trying to breed these algorithmic fantasies of a hollow, vacant cause-- i am the techno-aristocrat and i am here to implore you to stop molesting these algorithms with your private equitor's wet dream and clean the jizz off the steering will of your G-Wagon oil car for just an ounce of perpetuity in the commercial mainframe you so blatantly thieve from for the stat-game gauntlet of biggest business.
