Guh..
GRAY

GRAY

GRAYBUG VISION, INC.

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About GRAYBUG VISION, INC.

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Every second that passed in this video shed more and more of my gray matter Also 32,500 is not 25 factorial, nor is it 25! times 100
I just want to know if this is gray territory or like "lol obviously no" if it's gray territory Im pretty sure I could just go for it cause we're a small startup we have no actual policy for use of the card besides I obviously can't use it to buy new skis or some shit
Don’t forget to shave your gray ashen bush
Gray Swan hedge fund reporting cutting rates will keep the market flat. Nobody knows shit.
Aunt Barb couldn't hold back her excitement. She dug into a purse that seen better days, fishing out a carton of Marb Reds. "I can't wait to watch Trump TV," she told Uncle Rick, her voice scratchy from all the years of smoking. Uncle Rick, belly hanging over his belt like an overfilled trash bag, just grunted from his throne of a recliner which made a few clicks as he pushed back further in it. He had the crusted TV remote gripped tight. The greatroom of the double wide had a permanent ethereal blue haze, the curtains dingy and yellowed. The TV flickered on and Trump popped up, ready to spit some "truth". Barb was even more excited than last Tuesday when she won five bucks on a pull tab. "About damn time we get the real skinny and not that other MSM garbage.", she hollered, pointing at the screen, her bracelets clacking together. Uncle Rick sat back, his eyes fixed on the screen. Barb, watched intently, tossing out "Uh-huh’s" and "You said it's" at the screen like she was having a two-way conversation with the Don himself. As the night wore on, the glow from Trump TV bathed the room in animosity and fervor. The real world, with its complexities and shades of gray, dissolved beyond the reach of this bastion of freedom's walls. Here, within these confines, Aunt Barb and Uncle Rick found solace in the rousing affirmations and fiercely echoed rhetoric emanating from the screen. The clock ticked deep into the night, unnoticed, as nods and affirmations grew less frequent and eventually gave way to the heavy breathing of sleep. The TV continued to chatter into the void, its audience now lost. Until tomorrow's broadcast, of course.
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