Where is my big sacrifice?

Those slashes on my back are just crumbs compared to what I’ve been seeing these days. Where’s my fiery bus full of screaming people? Isn’t my right-hand good enough to be cut into?

I’ll have to up my game.

After breakfast, of course.

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There we go.

A selfie of my left hand and another of my right foot. There is a mole on my left hand between my first finger and thumb but I don’t know where it came from. I’ve had it since I was a kid but it isn’t like I...

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