sometimes the words escape me
I know nothing of originality; I only know that someone once told me that a million monkeys could write the whole of my oeuvre on a typewriter in a million-billion years of effort, so I punched him in the nose.
I know nothing of originality; I only know that someone once told me that a million monkeys could write the whole of my oeuvre on a typewriter in a million-billion years of effort, so I punched him in the nose.
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