I was stealing saltshakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them in my pockets, hiding them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small, small child, I knew it would one day come to this.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 36139 | 2021-03-01 16:12:23 | 147.57 | 99% |
| 25971 | 2019-12-01 13:12:17 | 151.47 | 100% |
| 19490 | 2018-08-27 15:12:47 | 138.60 | 99% |
| 19249 | 2018-07-20 02:49:01 | 152.08 | 99% |
| 18617 | 2018-06-30 02:00:50 | 137.65 | 99% |
| 10245 | 2017-08-05 02:12:08 | 138.43 | 98% |
| 7596 | 2017-05-12 02:39:37 | 147.56 | 98% |
| 6697 | 2017-04-08 00:21:56 | 128.21 | 96% |
| 5587 | 2017-01-30 14:36:47 | 117.49 | 95% |
| 4806 | 2017-01-12 13:35:19 | 106.34 | 93% |
| 4562 | 2017-01-07 12:32:06 | 118.88 | 97% |
| 2026 | 2016-11-23 02:07:38 | 115.63 | 95% |
| 677 | 2016-09-03 12:44:30 | 128.57 | 97% |