You can consider this afternoon’s impulse buy, a fiendish bump of sorts, as in a fiendish bump hit of near-pure cocaine. Yes, right off the grimy old thumbnail, as you should prefer. It’s a lot more lustful and truthful than an almost medicinal sniff from a small cold metal rod dipped into a haphazardly worn show-off vial around the neck.
Truth be told, I did not crave this particular typer… But nor was it plain and common enough to dismiss. I merely and quickly processed fast-becoming natural instinct calculations and made the necessary considerations (such as $ and space) to determine that while I didn’t exactly need or even desired this machine, i couldn’t let it go bc it would monumentally haunt me all the remaining days of my life.