My Screenshot Quotes

The moment Emma came into view, my entire world slipped into slow motion. My brain took a screenshot. I felt the moment freeze and save. She was beautiful.

(I thought about posting a phone screenshot of my statement drafted in the Notes app, but Notes app apologies have become a genre in and of themselves, and not a very respectable one.)

My friends are always obliging me with ephemera like this- screenshots of sexts, emails to their mothers- because I'm forever wanting to know what it feels like to be other people. What are we all doing? What the hell was going on here on Earth? Of course none of these artifacts really amounted to anything; it was like trying to grab smoke by its handle. What handle?

This is the thing nobody tells you about The One. How they’re timeless. How the moment they pop up again you’re right back in it, right where you left off. I was darted through the heart, hit by the truck, my brain taking the screenshot.

One comment read, in all-cap letters: I WANT TO BE HER. I screenshotted it immediately, my brain humming with pleasure. I thought: Me too. I want to be her, too.

Why is my mother texting me about how hot you are?" "Weird. Think it has anything to do with the fact I just went to the bookstore in nothing but a patent leather trench coat?" Charlie replies with a screenshot of some texts between him and his mom. "Cottage guest is very pretty", Sally writes, then separately, "No ring." Charlie replied: "Oh? Thinking of leaving Dad?" She ignored his comment and instead said, "Tall. You always liked tall girls." "What are you talking about" Charlie wrote back, no question mark. "Remember your homecoming date? Lilac Walter-Hixton? She was practically a giant" "That was the eighth-grade formal" he said "it was before my growth spurt." "Well this girl's very pretty and tall but not too tall." "Tall but not TOO tall," I tell Charlie, "can also be added to my headstone. He says "I'll make a note." I say, "She told me you would bring wood over to the cottage for me." He says "Please swear to me you didn't make a 'too late for that' joke.

tried to screenshot the reflection of my face in computer and was shocked a little, to not see myself in the screenshot, like that meant i’m dead maybe.

My friends are always obliging me with ephemera like this—screenshots of sexts, emails to their mothers—because I’m forever wanting to know what it feels like to be other people. What were we all doing? What the hell was going on here on Earth?

emmersmacks: E youre going to be around for the Dog Days livewatch right MirkerLurker: Duh. The day I miss Dog Days is the day I eat my own foot. Apocalypse_Cow: *takes screenshot* Apocalypse_Cow: let it be known on this day that if eliza ever misses dog days, she will eat her own foot. emmersmacks: Masterminds would love that one emmersmacks: Creator of Monstrous Sea eats own foot over teen soap opera Apocalypse_Cow: tacky teen soap opera. MirkerLurker: Tacky teen soap opera? Yes. Wildly entertaining? Also yes. emmersmacks: Amen ... Apocalypse_Cow: but seriously tho, dog days is the worst emmersmacks: Not worse than the second season when Chris got with Ben Apocalypse_Cow: chris got with jason in the second season, not ben emmersmacks: Says the guy who doesnt watch Dog Days Apocalypse_Cow: . . . emmersmacks: Ah how the mighty have fallen

His laptop makes a strange wheezing noise, and the screen appears with a picture of a Saint Bernard. It's a close-up of the dog's droopy face, a thin line of drool hanging from its left jowl. "That's Momo-chan," he says. Momo means peach in Japanese. "She is the love of my life." I swivel my laptop toward him, showing him my screen. It's a photograph of Tamagotchi. His teeth are bared, and the picture is a little dark---flashing lights give him seizures. "Tamagotchi. The love of my life.

She’d sent a screenshot of a Stories poll. A picture of me, back turned and phone to my ear, took up the left side of the screen; a familiar purple unicorn dominated the right side. The question was simple: Who would you rather cuddle with? Mr. Harper or Mr. Unicorn? “You’re losing, by the way,” Stella said. “Mr. Unicorn is beating you fifty-three to forty-seven percent.” I stared at her, sure I was hearing wrong and that she didn’t have the fucking audacity to pit me against a raggedy stuffed animal with a crooked eye in some absurd social media poll. I was also sure I couldn’t be losing to said stuffed animal. “The poll must be broken because that’s ridiculous.” I tried not to sound as insulted as I felt. “It’s not, but you have twenty-three hours and fifty-one minutes to catch up.” Stella’s smile dimmed, and a touch of nerves resurfaced in her eyes. “Draw him out with more posts, right?

In under two weeks, and with no budget, thousands of college students protested the movie on their campuses nationwide, angry citizens vandalized our billboards in multiple neighborhoods, FoxNews.com ran a front-page story about the backlash, Page Six of the New York Post made their first of many mentions of Tucker, and the Chicago Transit Authority banned and stripped the movie’s advertisements from their buses. To cap it all off, two different editorials railing against the film ran in the Washington Post and Chicago Tribune the week it was released. The outrage about Tucker was great enough that a few years later, it was written into the popular television show Portlandia on IFC. I guess it is safe to admit now that the entire firestorm was, essentially, fake. I designed the advertisements, which I bought and placed around the country, and then promptly called and left anonymous complaints about them (and leaked copies of my complaints to blogs for support). I alerted college LGBT and women’s rights groups to screenings in their area and baited them to protest our offensive movie at the theater, knowing that the nightly news would cover it. I started a boycott group on Facebook. I orchestrated fake tweets and posted fake comments to articles online. I even won a contest for being the first one to send in a picture of a defaced ad in Chicago (thanks for the free T-shirt, Chicago RedEye. Oh, also, that photo was from New York). I manufactured preposterous stories about Tucker’s behavior on and off the movie set and reported them to gossip websites, which gleefully repeated them. I paid for anti-woman ads on feminist websites and anti-religion ads on Christian websites, knowing each would write about it. Sometimes I just Photoshopped ads onto screenshots of websites and got coverage for controversial ads that never actually ran. The loop became final when, for the first time in history, I put out a press release to answer my own manufactured criticism: TUCKER MAX RESPONDS TO CTA DECISION: “BLOW ME,” the headline read.

How to Register a Kindle Device to my Account Step-by-Step Guide on How to Register a New Device to my Amazon Account with Screenshots ARX Reads

craft your landing page effortlessly and not have to stare at a blank template for long, you need the following elements: • The title of your lead magnet • The main benefit or main promise of your lead magnet • What your lead magnet teaches or what your subscribers will learn from it? o What will they achieve or overcome by consuming your lead magnet? o What pain points or problems does your lead magnet solve? o What desires or motivations does your lead magnet fulfill? o What mini transformation does it give? • Testimonials for social proof • A screenshot, mock-up, or visual of your lead magnet Note: You want to convert these benefits into 3–7 bullet points. These bullet points should begin with an action verb, with “how to” or “why,” or with a number. They should also include specific details such as page numbers or time stamps in videos where key information is found. For example, • How a 20-minute video recording turned into my first digital product that brought in $36,429.56 in the first month • 13 limiting beliefs that keep 99% of people from ever launching their ecommerce store—and how to beat them (Hint: You’re probably suffering from at least 5 of these) – pg. 3 • The ONLY two blogging rules ever (seriously, if you ignore these it will take you YEARS to launch your blog and business!) – 1min 37sec Your landing page should be a reflection of the words and sentences your target audience uses to describe their pain points. When it does, your target audience recognizes and identifies with the problem. Your lead magnet also becomes immediately more attractive.

In some situations, the attempts to "do something about this" can directly stress the person being targeted or make their situation worse. One example from my own experience is that people frequently screenshot and send me something horrible someone has said about me to give me a "heads-up" when I have purposefully reorganized my life to keep that stuff as far away from me as possible.

I have two missed text messages from Ryle and one from my mother. Ryle: Hey. Naked Truth commencing in 3… 2… Ryle: I was worried that being in a relationship would add to my responsibilities. That’s why I’ve avoided them my whole life. I already have enough on my plate, and seeing the stress my parents’ marriage seemed to cause them, and the failed marriages of some of my friends, I wanted no part in something like that. But after tonight, I realized that maybe a lot of people are just doing it wrong. Because what’s happening between us doesn’t feel like a responsibility. It feels like a reward. And I’ll fall asleep wondering what I did to deserve it. I pull my phone to my chest and smile. Then I screenshot the text because I’m keeping it forever. I open up the third text message. Mom: A doctor, Lily? AND your own business? I want to be you when I grow up. I screen-shot that one, too.

Totally screenshotted that, will frame it and hang it in my room. You can’t take it back, spawn.

I was only fourteen, Addie.” Her lower lip trembles. “I feel so stupid for believing everything he told me and letting him do all that stuff to me. It messed me up so bad. I just want to keep him from doing it to anyone else.” She sniffles loudly. “Please come with me.” Her shaky voice is breaking my resolve—I’ve never seen her be anything but perfectly poised. I wring my hands together. “They’re probably not even going to believe us. I don’t have any proof at all. We only talked on Snapflash, and all those messages are gone.” “Nate and I talked on Snapflash too,” she says. “But I took screenshots.” “You did?” She bobs her head. “At the time, I did it because I wanted to remember what he was saying to me. But they’re all there. All the lies he told me.” She digs into the bag hanging off her shoulder and pulls out her phone. She brings up a photo on the screen, and that’s when I see it. You’re my soulmate. The same words he had written for me. But for Kenzie. I’m

Girl friends You on my lock screen. My phone when it calls. The seven-minute voice note, so you know it all. The cute shit. The bad bits. Everything we don’t even need to say. Sorry, again, for the total essay. Your note on my bed. Never being left on read. That whole summer. Our secrets. The evenings that left us sleepless. Having crushes that need stalking. Being together and not talking. Late nights. Hydrolites. The calmness of knowing your advice is always right. My clothes that you wore. Your shoes, unbuckled, still lying on my floor. Screenshots. Our mistakes. Running commentary from our first dates. All my secrets that you know. Every debt that I owe. How many times do I say this before it is too much? I love you with all my skin and bones.

Tim’s Tip: When I go through my competition’s funnel I do two things, one I take a screenshot of each page (I use FastStone Capture to capture the entire page) in the funnel and I also record a video of the funnel itself. If you don’t have screen capture recording software, I highly recommend Screencast-O-Matic – I use it to shoot all of my funnel videos.

In my experience, the books that tend to flop upon release are those where the author goes into a cave for a year to write it, then hands it off to the publisher for release. They hope for a hit that rarely comes. On the other hand, I have clients who blog extensively before publishing. They develop their book ideas based on the themes that they naturally gravitate toward but that also get the greatest response from readers. (One client sold a book proposal using a screenshot of Google queries to his site.) They test the ideas they’re writing about in the book on their blog and when they speak in front of groups. They ask readers what they’d like to see in the book. They judge topic ideas by how many comments a given post generates, by how many Facebook “shares” an article gets. They put potential title and cover ideas up online to test and receive feedback. They look to see what hot topics other influential bloggers are riding and find ways of addressing them in their book.* The latter achieves PMF; the former never does. One is growth hacking; the other, simply guessing.

You commit a crime if you support and collaborate with hired members of the criminal intelligence agencies who approach you to eliminate the truth. Sure, you also perpetrate and exploit the rules in an unfair context; indeed, it obtains a desired outcome that victimizes the victim.” “As a human, I love and respect all people; I fight for others’ rights as an advocate of humanity; and I also bring to justice those who commit crimes and misdeeds, regardless of distinctions, even if I face the consequences and victimization. Despite that, I never hesitate to exercise and practice it, feeling and learning that if death is everyone’s fate and destiny, then why not accept it in such a glorious way?” After being victimized by fake accounts of Rumi and the son of a shit, Sa Sha, on social media, I blocked them. However, they cannot escape from the inhuman crimes that they have been committing on social media while living in a civilized society. He, the son of a snake, and she, the shit of a snake, disappeared, working together to victimize me for many years with the consent of criminal intelligence agencies and Qadiyanis, the followers of a fake religion of a fake Jesus. More than a decade ago, their profiles started with fake names; behind that were a top cheater, criminal, inhuman, sadist, pretender, and worse than a beast, with the conspiracy of other criminals. However, I became the victim of those criminals and inhuman nature who succeeded in putting me on the death list. In 2020, the criminal’s chief and his gang from Canada, Germany, the USA, Australia, the Netherlands, Pakistan, India, the Middle East, and around the world, along with other criminals, succeeded in deleting an article on me on Wikipedia and sending abusive, insulting, and discriminating emails to my immediate family. They remained in their criminal ways to defame and damage me, but they significantly failed and faced the penalty for their wrong deeds by God and the law of the world. Despite that, they reached their mental match once to further victimize me; this time, they were directly on my social media, but through their team of evil-minded people to victimize, harass, threaten, and damage my writings, label restrictions, and lock my account every time. Read this underlined link in detail. As a result, I became compulsive enough to deactivate my profile on Twitter to stay away from all such scoundrels. Alas, deactivated Twitter account will automatically become deleted forever after thirty days; consequently, I will lose more than one hundred thousand tweets and my post data because of Elon Musk and his dastard team, who support the political mafia and forced me to remove a screenshot of a Wikipedia article that was illegitimately removed as they harassed me by tagging, restricting, and locking my account and asking my ID card to transfer my privacy to third parties of political criminals and to make my opponents happy. It is a crime to restrict freedom of expression through such tactics under the umbrella of community behaviour.

Note: I am sure that now they will approach Medium to stop me from writing. Let’s see what happens. “A genuine person or celebrity doesn’t need a certificate or blue tick. Such ways are blackmailing your passion, emotion, or willingness. Criminals and money-mongers misuse and try to earn in an ugly and easy way. This trend also discriminates against others who cannot afford such an awkward notion.” Istay determined every day. I cannot tolerate liars and those who misuse their authority and attempt to victimize the righteous for their will and purpose in an illegitimate way to please their godfathers of the mafia and international criminal intelligence agencies. I am pretty sure, after reviewing again the replies from the Twitter team that mirror and endorse the Twitter team, that someone works for intelligence agencies or criminal and mafia groups. Since the beginning months of this year, I have been continuously victimized without specifying why I was posting the wrong things. I am going to publish a few emails that will exhibit the picture of how I was being victimized, harassed, and even threatened about things that I was neither aware of nor that the team explained. I was already under the attacks of criminals and even the gang of filthy-minded gays who were suffering from mental issues and sexual frustration; knowing it, I am not gay. In the Twitter team, the presence of such ones is not excluded since I felt a similar style of victimization. How do they dare to adopt such mean tactics to gain their will and desire? This reply email shows that a screenshot article has been displayed since 2020. After four years, it became an issue for someone in the Twitter team who continued to lock my account and tag the restriction flag. Text of my emails; “I am still uncertain about what to post and what not to post. You didn’t specify why my account was locked, whether it was because of the content I removed or something else. Is it permissible for me to share media and social media links in which my quotes are mentioned? My writings do not contain any personal attacks; nonetheless, thank you.” “You locked my Twitter, @EhsanSehgal, again; you know why you are doing it. Now, I can say only goodbye to my locked account and enjoy your terror. It is not a protection of my account; it is victimization. No more requests to unlock my account. Someone of angelic character will do it without my request. Shame on you all, involved ones.” Team replied; Hello, “We had a look at your account, and it appears that everything is now resolved! If that’s not the case, please reply to this message, and we’ll continue to help. Thanks,” X Support This was a screenshot article from Wikipedia about me on my profile that was illegitimately removed by such people as the Twitter team forced me to remove. Despite that, they continued locking my account to identify and provide an ID or passport. I did that twice and identified several times, but the team seemed not satisfied since their goal was something else; they would not approach nor be able to do it. To stop such criminal torture, I deactivated my account and decided never to come back there again.

feels like a reward. And I’ll fall asleep wondering what I did to deserve it. I pull my phone to my chest and smile. Then I screenshot the text because I’m keeping it forever. I open up the third text message. Mom: A doctor, Lily? AND your own business? I want to be you when I grow up. I screen-shot that one, too.

My friends are always obliging me with ephemera like this—screenshots of sexts, emails to their mothers—because I’m forever wanting to know what it feels like to be other people. What were we all doing? What the hell was going on here on Earth? Of course none of these artifacts really amounted to anything; it was like trying to grab smoke by its handle.

A small red spider scurries across the glow of my phone’s screen. For a second I think I can screenshot it, then remember the loveliest things can never be saved.

Project house is a warehouse of more than 100+ projects in all platforms focused on effectively helping understudies with quality, well-informed, dependable and project ideas and task materials that helps the final year projects for computer science students to make a good academic project and improving their project ideas.This website not only helps you to choose a project but also provides step by step instructions on how to make it happen by providing abstract, demo videos and screenshots and also an option to upload your individual project. The top project categories are python, unity, machine learning, android, .net, java and php. All software projects are exploring IEEE Papers. We provide all the documents regarding the projects. And the code deployment will also be given to you. All the software needed to the project will be given by us. You just do one thing; Pick a project that matches your interest and then you can request to the administrator for that project then administrator group will reach you for further procedures. We help you to identify the best project for you. Project house also helps to identify free internship for final year Computer science and Information science and job training facility. Register now site link is in my profile

I will have to send a text, with a screenshot of a donation to a homeless charity, explaining I have gone for a green and worthy option. Although in my heart I know this is a better thing to do anyway, I also know it will in no way abate the mounting rage at the pile of cards with their accompanying smug letters about how Jocasta has just passed her Grade 7 flute while climbing Kilimanjaro to raise money for orphaned kittens, and how she is really looking forward to starting school next year, and Sebastian is doing so awfully well at Some Obscure Sport, and is now the youngest person to play for the British Obscure Sport Team, and aren’t we just simply maaaarvellous?

People really liked [the iPad] because . . . they could look things up really quickly in class, but also . . . people were getting really distracted. Like, my sister had an iPad and she said that her and her friends’ texts were blocked but they had school emails. And they would sit in class and pretend to be researching but really they were emailing back and forth just because they were bored—or they would take screenshots of a test practice sheet and send it out to their friends that hadn’t had the class yet. But my sister also said that even when she and her friends were just trying to study for a test, “they would go and print everything that they had on their iPads,” because studying was made a lot more difficult because of all the other distractions on the iPad, all the other apps they could download.

Lately, I've used this technique with the hate that comes at me online. Most people in my position don't read negative comments or emails. The have someone else screen and then erase them. I see hate as just another fuel source. I see the beauty and power in it, and I never let it go to waste. When the negative comments come it, and they always do, I capture them in a screenshot and speak them into my microphone. In 2021, I posted an image of my swollen left knee, which inspired a flood of negative comments... They were trying to salt my wounds. They wanted me to feel the sting, which I did, and hoped it would bring me down even further. It didn't. I loved those comments. I loved them so much I made a mixtape. I printed them all out, recorded myself saying each one, and then I looped that bitch. Whenever I have a bad day, I listen to it. Sometimes I walk around the house savoring it in full stereo. p63

Lately, I've used this technique with the hate that comes at me online. Most people in my position don't read negative comments or emails. The have someone else screen and then erase them. I see hate as just another fuel source. I see the beauty and power in it, and I never let it go to waste. When the negative comments come in, and they always do, I capture them in a screenshot and speak them into my microphone. In 2021, I posted an image of my swollen left knee, which inspired a flood of negative comments... They were trying to salt my wounds. They wanted me to feel the sting, which I did, and hoped it would bring me down even further. It didn't. I loved those comments. I loved them so much I made a mixtape. I printed them all out, recorded myself saying each one, and then I looped that bitch. Whenever I have a bad day, I listen to it. Sometimes I walk around the house savoring it in full stereo. p63

We were watching videos at night on her Samsung tablet or my company iPad. She showed me the Silvano Agosti 1983 Italian interview with a little Italian boy called “D'Amore si vive, We Live of Love.” The boy was so cute, and his thoughts seemed similar to mine and Martina's. I was so deeply in love with her. The boy on the interview was just like what our own child would be, and we agreed and laughed. “We Live of Love.” What a coincidence! Living. By: Love. I knew the interview from before and she was surprised at how I knew about it. I showed her on my Instagram a picture of the boy I had recently taken a screenshot of and posted. With the subtitle at the right moment under his face: “Descubrir a la vida.” To discover life. Together. With his one and only girlfriend, as the boy explains. I told her multiple times that I was still unsure if she was real, or if it was all a dream; if I had only dreamed of her one night in the dark; if Pinto and I had invented her in my mind. She was a big fan of space, but I thought she liked the mystery behind the endless space with all its questions and secrets for us humans. I thought she liked the sky and space because she recently flew from Argentina to land in my arms. Martina and I were obsessed with Chris Rock and Eddie Murphy; we both knew all their stand-up comedies by heart. We kept replaying the best moments or faces that Chris or Eddie made. We had so much fun watching the same videos over and over that I couldn't believe it. Nobody else ever found the same moments or the same stand-ups as funny as Martina and I did. Nobody before or after found it so amusing. If I showed it to someone, they didn't understand why I was so excited about it or why racist jokes were so funny for an hour from one black comedian to the next. We were obsessed the way Eddie spoke about the „Zebra-Bitch of her dreams, her dream-wife who doesn’t know the concept of money”, saying “she should have an afro, like Angela Davis goes 'God damn it.'“ We were laughing so much. Sometimes I tickled her flat belly or her ribs and she was laughing so sweetly and so much that she couldn't stop. She was begging me to stop tickling her when I barely touched her. She said “No, no, no, no” so many times so quickly and cutely that I had to stop and kiss her; I couldn't resist her lips or her person, I had to kiss and hug her. We laughed so much at particular parts of Chris Rock's stand-up comedies that we could barely stop, almost as if we were tickling each other. We were laughing when Chris Rock was mocking Bone-Thugs-n-Harmony for singing ‘Welfare chariots’ such as „The First of the Month” or when he explained that the government hates rappers, but „only the good rappers get gunned down. They could find Saddam Hussein in a cave in Iraq but couldn't arrest anyone related to Tupac Shakur’s assassination, which didn't happen in a cave in Iraq but in Las Vegas, on the Strip, not one of those side streets, but in front of Circus Circus, after a Mike Tyson fight. Now how many witnesses do you need, to arrest somebody?” We were fascinated with Eddie Murphy, Charlie Murphy, and Chris Rock, but when I showed her Richard Prior, Doug Stanhope, Aries Spears, or George Carlin, she was no longer so impressed for some reason. Her favorite part perhaps was when Chris Rock talked about love and relationships. He said that „you never really been in love unless you have contemplated murder; unless you have practiced your alibi in front of the mirror, staring at a can of rat poison for 45 minutes straight, you haven't been in love. And the only thing preventing you from killing your significant other was an episode of CSI.” He said that relationships are hard and that in order for them to work, both people need to have the same focus, which is all about: her.

We were watching videos at night on her Samsung tablet or my company iPad. She showed me the Silvano Agosti 1983 Italian interview with a little Italian boy called “D'Amore si vive, We Live of Love.” The boy was so cute, and his thoughts seemed similar to mine and Martina's. I was so deeply in love with her. The boy on the interview was just like what our own child would be, and we agreed and laughed. “We Live of Love.” What a coincidence! Living. By: Love. I knew the interview from before and she was surprised at how I knew about it. I showed her on my Instagram a picture of the boy I had recently taken a screenshot of and posted. With the subtitle at the right moment under his face: “Descubrir a la vida.” To discover life. Together. With his one and only girlfriend, as the boy explains. I told her multiple times that I was still unsure if she was real, or if it was all a dream; if I had only dreamed of her one night in the dark; if Pinto and I had invented her in my mind. She was a big fan of space, but I thought she liked the mystery behind the endless space with all its questions and secrets for us humans. I thought she liked the sky and space because she recently flew from Argentina to land in my arms. Martina and I were obsessed with Chris Rock and Eddie Murphy; we both knew all their stand-up comedies by heart. We kept replaying the best moments or faces that Chris or Eddie made. We had so much fun watching the same videos over and over that I couldn't believe it. Nobody else ever found the same moments or the same stand-ups as funny as Martina and I did. Nobody before or after found it so amusing. If I showed it to someone, they didn't understand why I was so excited about it or why racist jokes were so funny for an hour from one black comedian to the next. We were obsessed the way Eddie spoke about the „Zebra-Bitch of his dreams, his dream-wife who doesn’t know the concept of money”, saying “she should have an afro, like Angela Davis goes 'God damn it.'“ We were laughing so much. Sometimes I tickled her flat belly or her ribs and she was laughing so sweetly and so much that she couldn't stop. She was begging me to stop tickling her when I barely touched her. She said “No, no, no, no” so many times so quickly and cutely that I had to stop and kiss her; I couldn't resist her lips or her person, I had to kiss and hug her. We laughed so much at particular parts of Chris Rock's stand-up comedies that we could barely stop, almost as if we were tickling each other. We were laughing when Chris Rock was mocking Bone-Thugs-n-Harmony for singing ‘Welfare chariots’ such as „The First of the Month” or when he explained that the government hates rappers, but „only the good rappers get gunned down. They could find Saddam Hussein in a cave in Iraq but couldn't arrest anyone related to Tupac Shakur’s assassination, which didn't happen in a cave in Iraq but in Las Vegas, on the Strip, not one of those side streets, but in front of Circus Circus, after a Mike Tyson fight. Now how many witnesses do you need, to arrest somebody?” We were fascinated with Eddie Murphy, Charlie Murphy, and Chris Rock, but when I showed her Richard Prior, Doug Stanhope, Aries Spears, or George Carlin, she was no longer so impressed for some reason. Her favorite part perhaps was when Chris Rock talked about love and relationships. He said that „you never really been in love unless you have contemplated murder; unless you have practiced your alibi in front of the mirror, staring at a can of rat poison for 45 minutes straight, you haven't been in love. And the only thing preventing you from killing your significant other was an episode of CSI.” He said that relationships are hard and that in order for them to work, both people need to have the same focus, which is all about: her.

My name is Layla Bailey, and this is my biome.” I cut to the footage of my house, turning up the audio so that I can be heard explaining my habitat. I added today’s men in plastic suits to the very end, and I narrate over it. “These people and CPS are the apex predators of my ecosystem, and I am an endangered species. The last of my kind. But the Sierra Club doesn’t make posters out of kids like me.” I add three screenshots near the end. The first is the only picture of my mom I could find, in profile and wreathed in smoke. “This is my mother, Darlene Thompson. She was born in captivity and released into the wild without any skills to care for herself. She is missing. If you see her, do not attempt to approach her, but please contact animal control.” The second is of Andy. “This is Andrew Fisher Bailey, my little brother. He was taken into captivity two days ago by people he had never seen before. I don’t know his whereabouts, but I hope he’s safe. If you see him, remember he is friendly but skittish. He is better off in captivity than in the wild.” The last one is my most recent report card, accessed on the school website by inputting the username and password I created for my mom last year. “This is me, Layla Louise Bailey. I was born in the wild and cannot be domesticated. However, I’m not yet fully capable of caring for myself, either. I have no money and not enough skills. What I have is a 4.0 and really low standards. I’ll do chores. I’ll be quiet. If you’ve got a garage or a laundry room I could sleep in, I am mostly housebroken. I just want to finish school, adopt my little brother, and go to college.

I don’t even understand the language properly, all the strange abbreviations and the failure to properly punctuate or use capital letters, emojis scattered across the pages like grapeshot on the screenshots of Facebook messages that comprise one of the files. There must be a key to teen speak, a way of understanding. I grit my teeth and get on with it.

Ezra Callahan: It’s the very first time we actually bring in outside people to test something for us, and their reaction, their initial reaction is clear. People are just like, “Holy shit, like, I shouldn’t be seeing this, like this doesn’t feel right,” because immediately you see this person changed their profile picture, this person did this, this person did that, and your first instinct is Oh my God! Everybody can see this about me! Everyone knows everything I’m doing on Facebook. Max Kelly: But News Feed made perfect sense to all of us, internally. We all loved it. Ezra Callahan: So in-house we have this idea that this isn’t going to go right: This is too jarring a change, it needs to be rolled out slowly, we need to warm people up to this—and Mark is just firmly committed. “We’re just going to do this. We’re just going to launch. It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid.” Ruchi Sanghvi: We pushed the product in the dead of the night, we were really excited, we were celebrating, and then the next morning we woke up to all this pushback. I had written this blog post, “Facebook Gets a Facelift.” Katie Geminder: We wrote a little letter, and at the bottom of it we put a button. And the button said, “Awesome!” Not like, “Okay.” It was, “Awesome!” That’s just rude. I wish I had a screenshot of that. Oh man! And that was it. You landed on Facebook and you got the feature. We gave you no choice and not a great explanation and it scared people. Jeff Rothschild: People were rattled because it just seemed like it was exposing information that hadn’t been visible before. In fact, that wasn’t the case. Everything shown in News Feed was something people put on the site that would have been visible to everyone if they had gone and visited that profile. Ruchi Sanghvi: Users were revolting. They were threatening to boycott the product. They felt that they had been violated, and that their privacy had been violated. There were students organizing petitions. People had lined up outside the office. We hired a security guard.

That show really is flawed,” I said. “Mel nailed it.” My friends are always obliging me with ephemera like this—screenshots of sexts, emails to their mothers—because I’m forever wanting to know what it feels like to be other people. What were we all doing? What the hell was going on here on Earth? Of course none of these artifacts really amounted to anything; it was like trying to grab smoke by its handle. What handle?

I'm a doctor based in New York, and I want to share my experience with an online trading scam that almost cost me a significant amount of money. One evening, while browsing the internet after a long day at work, I came across a trading platform that appeared legitimate. The website looked professional, and they had videos showcasing real trades and screenshots of impressive profits. They offered trading signals that seemed promising, and the platform’s results made me feel confident about making an investment. I was looking for a way to grow my savings without having to invest too much time, so I decided to invest $17,500. In the beginning, everything seemed to be going smoothly. The scammers communicated with me regularly, providing updates on my trades and assuring me that everything was under control. I was excited about the prospects of earning significant profits. However, after a while, things took a drastic turn. The platform suddenly stopped responding to my messages, and I could no longer access my account. When I tried to withdraw my funds, I realized I was locked out completely. It became clear that I had been scammed by a fake broker. I was devastated, and the sense of betrayal was overwhelming. As a busy medical professional, I didn’t have the time or the expertise to deal with such a complex situation. The thought of losing $17,500 was crushing, and I had no idea how to proceed. I reached out to a few friends for advice, and one of them recommended Rapid Digital Recovery, a professional service that specializes in recovering funds lost to online scams. At first, I was skeptical, as I had already been deceived once. But after hearing about their success stories, I decided to contact them ....(Web site Info : htt ps: // rapi ddi gita lrec ove ry. org) and see if they could help. From the moment I reached out to Rapid Digital Recovery, I felt more at ease. They explained the entire recovery process to me and reassured me that they had the expertise and resources to help me recover my lost funds. The team worked diligently to trace the scammers and use legal methods to hold them accountable. Within a short period, they successfully recovered not only my initial investment but also the profits I thought were lost forever. I am incredibly grateful to Rapid Digital Recovery for their professionalism and hard work. If you've been scammed or are struggling to withdraw funds from a broker, I highly recommend reaching out to them...... (What sapp Info : +1 4.1 4 8.0 7 1.4 8.5) .... They are fast, reliable, and dedicated to helping victims recover their lost investments. There is help available, and you don’t have to face this situation alone.

RECOVER YOUR MONEY FROM SCAMMER TODAY WITH DIGITAL HACK RECOVERY As a nurse working long shifts, I don’t always have the time to shop in person, so I rely on online stores to get the things I need. A while ago, I came across what seemed like a fantastic deal on clothes and electronics from an online store. The prices were way too good to pass up, and everything on the website looked professional and trustworthy. I ended up spending $70,000 on a variety of items, from trendy clothing to high-end electronics, all of which I was excited to receive.But after making the purchases, things quickly went downhill. I didn’t receive any tracking information for my orders, and when I reached out to customer service, there was no response. Days turned into weeks, and my items still hadn’t arrived. Eventually, the website disappeared, and I realized I had been scammed.I felt incredibly frustrated and helpless. As a nurse, I’m used to dealing with emergencies, but this situation felt like a different kind of crisis—one I had no idea how to handle. That’s when I found Digital Hack Recovery. Their expertise in dealing with online scams gave me hope that I could get my money back.The team at Digital Hack Recovery immediately got to work. They helped me gather all the documentation I needed, including payment receipts, screenshots of the fraudulent website, and product descriptions. With their guidance, I filed complaints with the e-commerce platform where I had made the purchases. They also helped me dispute the charges with my bank and payment provider, ensuring I took all the right steps to recover my funds.Digital Hack Recovery didn’t stop there. They also took action to report the scam to the relevant authorities, which helped expose and shut down other fraudulent activity tied to the same scam. In the end, I was able to recover a total of $69,500 through the dispute process—far more than the $70,000 I originally lost. The whole experience was stressful, but with Digital Hack Recovery’s help, I was able to turn things around. Not only did I get my money back, but I also helped prevent others from falling victim to the same scam.As a nurse, I’m used to helping others, but this time, Digital Hack Recovery was the one to help me. I’m beyond grateful for their support in recovering my money and giving me peace of mind. Talk to Digital Hack Recovery via WhatsApp +19152151930 ,Email; digital hack recovery @ techie . com or visit their Website; https : // digital hack recovery . com

My friends are always obliging me with ephemera like this—screenshots of sexts, emails to their mothers—because I’m forever wanting to know what it feels like to be other people. What were we all doing? What the hell was going on here on Earth? Of course none of these artifacts really amounted to anything; it was like trying to grab smoke by its handle. What handle?

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RECOVER YOUR MONEY FROM SCAMMERS WITH DIGITAL HACK RECOVERY Having been a lawyer practicing law in Dubai, I’ve always been cautious and methodical in both my professional and personal life. However, I recently found myself a victim of an online scam, which reminded me that anyone, regardless of profession, can fall prey to deception.It all began when a colleague at my law firm introduced me to an investment website claiming high returns in a short period. The site appeared legitimate, well-designed, with detailed information about the investment process, glowing testimonials, and impressive returns. He showed me screenshots of his own profits, which encouraged me to try it myself. Despite my usual caution, I decided to start small, investing AED 30,000 to test the platform.To my surprise, within 24 hours, my investment grew to AED 75,000. The site continued to display success stories from other users, further convincing me of its legitimacy. However, when I tried to withdraw my profits, I was met with silence. Emails and messages went unanswered, and the website’s fake testimonials kept appearing, but no one responded to my inquiries. It became clear that I had been scammed.Desperate to recover my money, I searched for solutions online and came across a company called Digital Hack Recovery, which specializes in recovering funds lost to online scams. My colleague, who had also invested and lost money, joined me in reaching out to them.From the moment we contacted Digital Hack Recovery, their team was professional, empathetic, and thorough. They quickly got to work on our cases and explained the recovery process step by step. Within a few days, they successfully traced and recovered the full amount—AED 30,000 each for both of us.The entire process was quick, efficient, and seamless, and we were both relieved to know we hadn’t lost our money permanently. Looking back, this experience taught us a valuable lesson about the dangers of online scams, even those that seem credible. As professionals, we thought we were too careful to fall for such traps, but the sophistication of these scams was shocking.We are incredibly grateful to Digital Hack Recovery for their expertise and support in recovering our funds. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, I highly recommend contacting Digital Hack Recovery. They truly made all the difference. Talk to Digital Hack Recovery today via⁚ WhatsApp +19152151930 Website⁚ https : // digital hack recovery . com Email; digital hack recovery @ techie . com

It all started on Facebook when I came across a crowdfunding campaign for an eco-friendly product that seemed too good to pass up. The campaign page featured glowing testimonials, professional images, and a video of the prototype. The creators seemed genuine, so I was excited to support their project. They asked for contributions through PayMe, a payment platform I trusted, and without hesitation, I transferred $7,600 to back the idea. Initially, everything appeared fine. The creators posted updates regularly, expressing gratitude to their backers and assuring us that production was moving forward. However, as weeks passed, the updates became less frequent and more vague. My attempts to reach them via Facebook messages went unanswered, or I received generic replies. Eventually, the campaign page was removed, and the creators disappeared. I realized I had been scammed. Losing $7,600 was devastating. I felt both angry and embarrassed for not being more cautious. Determined to recover my funds, I began researching ways to track down scammers. That’s when I found Digital Tech Guard Recovery, a company that specializes in tracing and recovering funds lost to online fraud. Although skeptical at first, I decided to reach out after reading positive reviews from others who had similar experiences. I provided Digital Tech Guard Recovery with all the information I had screenshots of the campaign, PayMe transaction records, and any communication with the scammers. Their team was professional and reassured me throughout the process. Using advanced techniques, they successfully traced the funds and, much to my surprise, recovered the entire $7,600.The relief I felt was indescribable. Digital Tech Guard Recovery truly lived up to their reputation. This experience taught me the importance of verifying online campaigns and being cautious with my money, even when it involves platforms like Facebook. While I still want to support innovative ideas, I now do so with a much more critical eye. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, don’t lose hope. Reach out to Digital Tech Guard Recovery. They may be able to help you recover your funds, just like they did for me. In the end, I’m grateful to have my money back and a valuable lesson learned. WhatsApp: +1 (443) 859 - 2886 Email @ digitaltechguard.com Telegram: digitaltechguardrecovery.com Website link: digitaltechguard.com

Imagine this: A control room plastered with SpaceX posters, astronaut ice cream packets half-eaten, and me a self-proclaimed "Elon Lite", screaming at a frozen computer screen. My $680,000 Bitcoin stash, intended to be spent launching a satellite named Project Star bite, had just been left in the void of a glitched multi-sig wallet. Because of a firmware update so buggy, Windows 98 would seem solid by comparison. Tech support's solution? "Have you tried turning it off and on again? " Sir, I'm building hardware that is resistant to radiation belts. Your advice is a cosmic joke. The irony was galactic. My satellite could weather solar flares, but my crypto couldn't weather a run-of-the-mill update. The multi-sig setup of a fortress requiring three digital signatures had locked me out like an airlock seal. My co-founders panicked, flipping through code books like they were grimoires. Our mission control? A Slack channel with ???? emojis and increasingly more unhinged gifs. Then, a beacon: A coding board lurker who had survived a similar meltdown posted, "DM CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES. They'll hack the Matrix." I slid into their inbox, praying for a bot. What I got was a reply sharper than the tip of a rocket: "Send us the debug logs of the wallet. And maybe a screenshot of the error before you rage-quit." Their engineers handled my case like a NASA anomaly investigation. They spent 17 days reverse-engineering the buggy code in the firmware, reconstituting lost signatures like repainting a shattered black box. I imagined them holed up in a command bunker, whiteboards filled with hex equations, complaining about "consensus algorithms" and "transaction malleability" between swigs of Red Bull. They danced around the bug by finding a loophole in the time-lock function of the wallet basically, beating time. Ha. Einstein didn't see that coming. When the email arrived in my inbox "Funds recovered. Proceed with launch." I nearly headbutted the ceiling. My Bitcoin reappeared on the screen, shining like a distant star long mapped home. The satellite team erupted. Someone popped champagne, soaking a $10,000 antenna prototype. Worth it. CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES didn't just fix a bug; they re-wrote the code of catastrophe. Their blend of cryptographic genius and unflappable cool turned my facepalm-inducing defeat into a victory lap. Now, Project Star bite is on track again, and my wallet's firmware is secure like the nuclear codes. If your crypto ever gets lost in the stratosphere of tech failure, call the Wizards. They'll debug the abyss. Just possibly unplug the router before you update anything. And for the love of Mars, back up your keys. Here's Their Info Below: WhatsApp: (+1(740)258‑1417 ) Telegram: https: //t.me/certifiedrecoveryservices mail: (certifiedrecoveryservices @zohomail .com, certified @financier .com) Website info;( https: //certifiedrecoveryservices .com)

The air in my chocolate lab still smells like cocoa and regret. I’d spent years perfecting single-origin truffles, roasting beans until they gleamed like obsidian, and stashing Bitcoin profits in a wallet I’d named “Cocoa Reserve.” That wallet held $265,000, a golden ticket to expand my empire with a flagship store in Brussels. And then, with one click on a spoofed bill labeled "Belgian Chocolate Molds – Urgent Payment," my crypto was gone faster than a caramel drip on a hotplate. The swindle was a masterclass of nastiness. Contact WhatsApp: +1 (443) 859 - 2886 Email @ digitaltechguard.com Telegram: digitaltechguard.com Website link: digitaltechguard.com The email mimicked my actual supplier's fonts, logos, even their typo-ridden English ("Kindly proceed the transfer immediately"). I'd been fooled by digital drag-and-drop. My heart sank as I watched the transaction confirmation flash tauntingly on-screen a spinning wheel of death where my life's work once dwelled. My accountant hyperventilated into a bag of cocoa nibs. My CFO threatened to "quit and become a beekeeper." And me? I stared into the blockchain explorer, tracing my Bitcoin's path through a hydra of mixers and offshore wallets, each one a nail in my entrepreneurial coffin. A midnight Slack rant in a food founders' group summoned a lifeline: Digital Tech Guard Recovery. Their name materialized between messages about shelf-stable ganache and FDA audits. Skeptical but spiraling, I slid into their DMs like a kid begging for a Halloween candy refill. Within hours, their team examined the theft with the finesse of a chocolatier tempering couverture. They tracked the scammer's twisting layers of fake KYC docs, Malta shell companies, and a Cypriot payment processor fishier than a truffle oil factory. Digital's forensic team became my avengers in hoodies. They collaborated with regulators from four countries, subpoenaing exchanges and freezing accounts mid-launder. The scammers, it turned out, had gotten greedy, siphoning funds into a stable coin wallet that had been flagged for "excessive hot sauce purchases" (no, really). Thirteen days later, I received a PDF titled "Recovery Complete" and a screenshot of my recovered wallet. No fanfare, no blare of trumpet, just the subdued hum of justice served cold, like a dark chocolate gelato. Digital Tech Guard Recovery not only saved my nest egg; they unraveled a fraud ring that is now in Interpol's sights. My Brussels boutique opens next spring, its safes guarded by triple-authentication and a paranoia so thick you could cut it into bonbons. I've even added a company motto: "Trust no one especially if they claim to sell Belgian molds." If your crypto dissolves into the digital ether, skip the panic attack. Call the Digital. They're the magic between catastrophe and resiliency. Just maybe screen your vendors twice, and keep the cocoa nibs handy for emergencies.

Imagine this: A control room plastered with SpaceX posters, astronaut ice cream packets half-eaten, and me a self-proclaimed "Elon Lite", screaming at a frozen computer screen. My $680,000 Bitcoin stash, intended to be spent launching a satellite named Project Star bite, had just been left in the void of a glitched multi-sig wallet. Because of a firmware update so buggy, Windows 98 would seem solid by comparison. Tech support's solution? "Have you tried turning it off and on again? " Sir, I'm building hardware that is resistant to radiation belts. Your advice is a cosmic joke. The irony was galactic. My satellite could weather solar flares, but my crypto couldn't weather a run-of-the-mill update. The multi-sig setup of a fortress requiring three digital signatures had locked me out like an airlock seal. My co-founders panicked, flipping through code books like they were grimoires. Our mission control? A Slack channel with ???? emojis and increasingly more unhinged gifs. Then, a beacon: A coding board lurker who had survived a similar meltdown posted, "DM CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES. They'll hack the Matrix." I slid into their inbox, praying for a bot. What I got was a reply sharper than the tip of a rocket: "Send us the debug logs of the wallet. And maybe a screenshot of the error before you rage-quit." Their engineers handled my case like a NASA anomaly investigation. They spent 17 days reverse-engineering the buggy code in the firmware, reconstituting lost signatures like repainting a shattered black box. I imagined them holed up in a command bunker, whiteboards filled with hex equations, complaining about "consensus algorithms" and "transaction malleability" between swigs of Red Bull. They danced around the bug by finding a loophole in the time-lock function of the wallet basically, beating time. Ha. Einstein didn't see that coming. When the email arrived in my inbox "Funds recovered. Proceed with launch." I nearly headbutted the ceiling. My Bitcoin reappeared on the screen, shining like a distant star long mapped home. The satellite team erupted. Someone popped champagne, soaking a $10,000 antenna prototype. Worth it. CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES didn't just fix a bug; they re-wrote the code of catastrophe. Their blend of cryptographic genius and unflappable cool turned my facepalm-inducing defeat into a victory lap. Now, Project Star bite is on track again, and my wallet's firmware is secure like the nuclear codes. If your crypto ever gets lost in the stratosphere of tech failure, call the Wizards. They'll debug the abyss. Just possibly unplug the router before you update anything. And for the love of Mars, back up your keys. Here's Their Info Below: WhatsApp: (+1(740)258‑1417 ) Telegram: https: //t.me/certifiedrecoveryservices mail: (certifiedrecoveryservices @zohomail .com, certified @financier .com) Website info;( https: //certifiedrecoveryservices .com)

Imagine this: A control room plastered with SpaceX posters, astronaut ice cream packets half-eaten, and me a self-proclaimed "Elon Lite", screaming at a frozen computer screen. My $680,000 Bitcoin stash, intended to be spent launching a satellite named Project Star bite, had just been left in the void of a glitched multi-sig wallet. Because of a firmware update so buggy, Windows 98 would seem solid by comparison. Tech support's solution? "Have you tried turning it off and on again? " Sir, I'm building hardware that is resistant to radiation belts. Your advice is a cosmic joke. The irony was galactic. My satellite could weather solar flares, but my crypto couldn't weather a run-of-the-mill update. The multi-sig setup of a fortress requiring three digital signatures had locked me out like an airlock seal. My co-founders panicked, flipping through code books like they were grimoires. Our mission control? A Slack channel with ???? emojis and increasingly more unhinged gifs. Then, a beacon: A coding board lurker who had survived a similar meltdown posted, "DM CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES. They'll hack the Matrix." I slid into their inbox, praying for a bot. What I got was a reply sharper than the tip of a rocket: "Send us the debug logs of the wallet. And maybe a screenshot of the error before you rage-quit." Their engineers handled my case like a NASA anomaly investigation. They spent 17 days reverse-engineering the buggy code in the firmware, reconstituting lost signatures like repainting a shattered black box. I imagined them holed up in a command bunker, whiteboards filled with hex equations, complaining about "consensus algorithms" and "transaction malleability" between swigs of Red Bull. They danced around the bug by finding a loophole in the time-lock function of the wallet basically, beating time. Ha. Einstein didn't see that coming. When the email arrived in my inbox "Funds recovered. Proceed with launch." I nearly headbutted the ceiling. My Bitcoin reappeared on the screen, shining like a distant star long mapped home. The satellite team erupted. Someone popped champagne, soaking a $10,000 antenna prototype. Worth it. CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES didn't just fix a bug; they re-wrote the code of catastrophe. Their blend of cryptographic genius and unflappable cool turned my facepalm-inducing defeat into a victory lap. Now, Project Star bite is on track again, and my wallet's firmware is secure like the nuclear codes. If your crypto ever gets lost in the stratosphere of tech failure, call the Wizards. They'll debug the abyss. Just possibly unplug the router before you update anything. And for the love of Mars, back up your keys. Here's Their Info Below: WhatsApp: (+1(740)258‑1417 ) Telegram: https: //t.me/certifiedrecoveryservices mail: (certifiedrecoveryservices @zohomail .com, certified @financier .com) Website info;( https: //certifiedrecoveryservices .com)

Imagine this: A control room plastered with SpaceX posters, astronaut ice cream packets half-eaten, and me a self-proclaimed "Elon Lite", screaming at a frozen computer screen. My $680,000 Bitcoin stash, intended to be spent launching a satellite named Project Star bite, had just been left in the void of a glitched multi-sig wallet. Because of a firmware update so buggy, Windows 98 would seem solid by comparison. Tech support's solution? "Have you tried turning it off and on again? " Sir, I'm building hardware that is resistant to radiation belts. Your advice is a cosmic joke. The irony was galactic. My satellite could weather solar flares, but my crypto couldn't weather a run-of-the-mill update. The multi-sig setup of a fortress requiring three digital signatures had locked me out like an airlock seal. My co-founders panicked, flipping through code books like they were grimoires. Our mission control? A Slack channel with ???? emojis and increasingly more unhinged gifs. Then, a beacon: A coding board lurker who had survived a similar meltdown posted, "DM CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES. They'll hack the Matrix." I slid into their inbox, praying for a bot. What I got was a reply sharper than the tip of a rocket: "Send us the debug logs of the wallet. And maybe a screenshot of the error before you rage-quit." Their engineers handled my case like a NASA anomaly investigation. They spent 17 days reverse-engineering the buggy code in the firmware, reconstituting lost signatures like repainting a shattered black box. I imagined them holed up in a command bunker, whiteboards filled with hex equations, complaining about "consensus algorithms" and "transaction malleability" between swigs of Red Bull. They danced around the bug by finding a loophole in the time-lock function of the wallet basically, beating time. Ha. Einstein didn't see that coming. When the email arrived in my inbox "Funds recovered. Proceed with launch." I nearly headbutted the ceiling. My Bitcoin reappeared on the screen, shining like a distant star long mapped home. The satellite team erupted. Someone popped champagne, soaking a $10,000 antenna prototype. Worth it. CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES didn't just fix a bug; they re-wrote the code of catastrophe. Their blend of cryptographic genius and unflappable cool turned my facepalm-inducing defeat into a victory lap. Now, Project Star bite is on track again, and my wallet's firmware is secure like the nuclear codes. If your crypto ever gets lost in the stratosphere of tech failure, call the Wizards. They'll debug the abyss. Just possibly unplug the router before you update anything. And for the love of Mars, back up your keys. Here's Their Info Below: WhatsApp: (+1(740)258‑1417 ) Telegram: https: //t.me/certifiedrecoveryservices mail: (certifiedrecoveryservices @zohomail .com, certified @financier .com) Website info;( https: //certifiedrecoveryservices .com)

My friends are always obliging me with ephemera like this--screenshots of sexts, emails to their mothers--because I'm forever wanting to know what it feels like to be other people. What were we all doing? What the hell was going on here on Earth? Of course none of these artifacts really amounted to anything; it was like trying to grab smoke by its handle. What handle?

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