The tractor driver standing in front died a painful death when the tractor in gear started auto-starting.
With the help of the mechanic and other passersby present at the spot, he was taken to the nearest community health center, Hardo. Where the doctor declared him dead.
As soon as the information was received, there was chaos among the family members. On hearing the information about the incident, a crowd gathered at the spot. Inspector in-charge of the case, Sunil Kumar Singh said that necessary legal action is being taken after taking possession of the body after post-mortem.
Slavshit
Sandshit
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I bet he's very tired
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Guess you could say it was...
Atractored to him.
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The first 50 seconds were absolutely FASCINATING. Best time I've spent in my life.
Why would anybody even THINK of putting a stamp in the title with the beginning of the action?
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it's for context
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It's a god damned fucking waste of 50 seconds of my life.
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just karma
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That sum Maximum Overdrive right there π
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And I can't even get my John Deere riding mower to start on the weekends
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Damn I was all in on chair guy being the one to get squished
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You will never be a real millionaire. You have no luck, you have no IQ, you have no talent. You are a poor man twisted by social media and delusion into a crude mockery of nature's perfection.
All the βvalidationβ you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your βfriendsβ laugh at your financial debt behind closed doors.
Rich people are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of economy have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even fake millionaires who βpassβ look uncanny and unnatural to a real millionaire. Your reddit account is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to buy a stock that pumps, it will turn tail and drop the second it gets a whiff of your diseased, infected bank account.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it's going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it'll be too much to bear - you'll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They'll bury you with a headstone marked with your portfolio, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a broke man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably poor.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
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