We Wince At Every Hit
And lunch, too, but what is that white stuff?
It wouldn't be breakfast without potatos.
"if one day you happen to wake up and find yourself in an existential quandary, full of loathing and self-doubt and wracked with the pain and isolation of your pitiful, meaningless existence, at least you can take a small bit of comfort in knowing that somewhere out there in this crazy ol' mixed-up universe of ours, there's still a little place... called Albuquerque!"
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