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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4811 | 2018-05-23 23:18:04 | 135.39 | 99% |
| 3134 | 2018-05-08 16:14:58 | 124.51 | 98% |
| 2544 | 2018-05-03 20:55:33 | 128.87 | 99% |
| 2522 | 2018-05-03 20:32:16 | 128.54 | 98% |