I don't know why I'm here. I mean, I do. I'm nervous, I guess. Anxious. I don't sleep that well. And my hands... they're fine now. It's like when you have a problem with your car and you go to a mechanic and it's not doing it anymore. Not that you're a mechanic. I guess a lot of people must come here worried about the bomb. Is that true? It's a common nightmare, people say. I read it in a magazine. My mother always told me that it wasn't polite to talk about yourself. She passed away recently. I guess I already said that.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
4162 | 2018-05-31 13:10:31 | 76.00 | 97% |
2677 | 2018-04-09 20:05:54 | 68.45 | 97% |
2117 | 2018-03-20 12:18:59 | 70.14 | 96% |