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Text : It was three hours past midnight when the words Meat Mountain gripped me, the fetus of a twisted mind. Bread, lettuce, beef, chicken, beef - all together in a manic crescendo of processed meats. When I was done, I wept. God would not forgive me. Chaque paragraphe sera un test.
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It was three hours past midnight when the words Meat Mountain gripped me, the fetus of a twisted mind. Bread, lettuce, beef, chicken, beef - all together in a manic crescendo of processed meats. When I was done, I wept. God would not forgive me.