Turns out, the air outside is pure poison. I am deathly ill.
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The air tastes like licking an ashtray in some bar that caters exclusively to those who suffer from oral fungus.
If a campfire could have diarrhea, it would smell like my front yard.
It’s like someone shat on a pile of burning hair.
I quit smoking. Apparently nature did not. My city smells like cremated anus.
