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The New Yorker : Daily Shouts
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At school, I wave goodbye to my son, but he doesn’t even look back, such is his hurry to get to the singing of the Soviet Anthem.

Though I cannot sue the people or entities that have wronged you, I BITE BACK, and you will owe me nothing until I bite.

Including one that transports you back to the year 2000, where bitcoin and N.F.T.s are simply the names of new boy bands.

Once this policy is enacted, it will be illegal for Americans to retain any mental impression longer than that little haptic buzz you get when you...

I know why I’m here today, Mr. Secretary. An inquiry? Right. It’s a setup, but I got this place surrounded with nurses, and every last one knows...
