

GameWe cry when milk was split, or spill the beans when all is well. We make a fuss when our wedge is thinner than the man we never meet. We fly as high as kites with holes. We find com- plaint when we are over- whelmed and yet complain when business is usual. We make the same kind of criticism when we are forced to bend over back- wards again, for the same old people in the same old game.Game
deviantID
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Taste my THUNDER!!!
We am communist.
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Taste my THUNDER!!!
We am communist.
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Taste my THUNDER!!!
We am communist.
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