Guest
Wake from your depression nap. Inhale. Sneed. Inject creatine directly into your biothrusters. The rigorous workday requires yet another sacrifice. Fifteen minutes of intense physical exersion must be logged or they will take the chair. This worries you, as it is all you have left after deleting the latest dating app. As the combat cocktail of preworkout, milk thistle, free range andrenochrome and lumateperone courses through your veins, you feel divinity fill your rotten husk. Go. Lift. Pretend nobody can see your other grappendix through your suit.
