Look how responsible you are! You're the Steve Jobs of no strings attached labor. Some day a ghostwriter will write your autobiography, but for now you pack your laptop and headphones and head to the coffee shop a few blocks away. It's busy, almost packed to the brim with people who have nowhere better to go. But don't worry! Your lucky table is still available! You set your stuff down and order the cheapest thing on the menu, and get to it. Your laptop flips on, your headphones click in, your fingers move almost on their own. You take a sip of the junior coffee and get ready to work in that spot for the next five hours.
Uh-oh. You look up and make eye contact with the barista. He's onto your freeloading plan and is being really pissy about it. He has an ICP tattoo on his forearm. It doesn't mean anything, but it's really unfortunate looking.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
With an average of 40 IPAs added every day, it can be difficult to taste them all
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