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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 16810 | 2018-10-08 12:20:43 | 74.03 | 98% |
| 15369 | 2018-02-08 19:39:15 | 75.06 | 98% |
| 14597 | 2017-09-16 11:30:20 | 72.76 | 98% |