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...plagiaristically. Finally, frustrated, he stopped and let out a plea of exasperation. "Motherfucker," he released breathily, tossing the pen across the room. Never an original thought in my fucking head. Just re-fucking-cycling all the fucking time. I don't even know why I try. . . --he contemplated putting the pen through his neck but dismissed the thought for sake of personal comfort. Nothing comfortable about a hole in the neck. "Anyway, might get ink poisoning," he thought. He impatiently shuffled the papers on his right, suffering an impressive paper-cut. "Motherfucker," he mumbled, dripping blood on the typewriter keys. He began to type away plagiaristically. Finally, frustrated, he stopped and let out a plea of exasperation. "Motherfucker," he released breathily, tossing the pen across the room. Never an original thought in my fucking head. Just re-fucking-cycling all the fucking time. I don't even know why I try. . . --he contemplated putting the pen through his neck but dismissed the thought for sake of personal comfort. Nothing comfortable about a hole in the neck. "Anyway, might get ink poisoning," he thought. He impatiently shuffled the papers on his right, suffering an impressive paper-cut. "Motherfucker," he mumbled, dripping blood on the typewriter keys. He began to type away plagiaristically. Finally, frustrated, he stopped and let out a plea of exasperation. "Motherfucker," he released breathily, tossing the pen across the room. Never an original thought in my fucking head. Just re-fucking-cycling all the fucking time. I don't even know why I try. . . --he contemplated putting the pen through his neck but dismissed the thought for sake of personal comfort. Nothing comfortable about a hole in the neck. "Anyway, might get ink poisoning," he thought. He impatiently shuffled the papers on his right, suffering an impressive paper-cut. "Motherfucker," he mumbled, dripping blood on the typewriter keys. He began to type away plagiaristically. Finally, frustrated, he stopped and let out a plea of exasperation. "Motherfucker," he released breathily, tossing the pen across the room. Never an original thought in my fucking head. Just re-fucking-cycling all the fucking time. I don't even know why I try. . . --he contemplated putting the pen through his neck but dismissed the thought for sake of personal comfort. Nothing comfortable about a hole in the neck. "Anyway, might get ink poisoning," he thought. He impatiently shuffled the papers on his right, suffering an impressive paper-cut. "Motherfucker," he mumbled, dripping blood on the typewriter keys. He began to type away plagiaristically. Finally, frustrated, he stopped and let out a plea of exasperation. "Motherfucker," he released breathily, tossing the pen across the room. Never an original thought in my fucking head. Just re-fucking-cycling all the fucking time. I don't even know why I try. . . --he contemplated putting the pen through his neck but dismissed the thought for sake of personal comfort. Nothing comfortable about a hole in the neck. "Anyway, might get ink poisoning," he thought. He impatiently shuffled the papers on his right, suffering an impressive paper-cut. "Motherfucker," he mumbled, dripping blood on the typewriter keys. He began to type away plagiaristically. Finally, frustrated, he stopped and let out a plea of exasperation. "Motherfucker," he released breathily, tossing the pen across the room. Never an original thought in my fucking head. Just re-fucking-cycling all the fucking time. I don't even know why I try. . . --he contemplated putting the pen through his neck but dismissed the thought for sake of personal comfort. Nothing comfortable about a hole in the neck. "Anyway, might get ink poisoning," he thought. He impatiently shuffled the papers on his right, suffering an impressive paper-cut. "Motherfucker," he mumbled, dripping blood on the typewriter keys. He began to type away ...
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