New York Magazine

@NYMag ↗

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Last Checked Oct. 6, 2022

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Mon Oct 03 12:54:19 +0000 2022

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New York Magazine @NYMag

@laurensmiley @epic Inside the “victim” car, women could clamp on a neck brace, a helmet. Men typically wouldn’t get any protection: too wimpy, in Mize’s view. He’d get into the “at fault” car, headlights glaring through the darkness down the road https://t.co/RPuiPrWm7F — PolitiTweet.org

Posted Oct. 3, 2022

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New York Magazine @NYMag

@laurensmiley @epic For concussions or a busted knee, he’d smack you with a liquor bottle, a brick, a frying pan. You’d chug Red Bull to spike your blood pressure. Pop aspirin so your blood would stream faster. Spill a bottle of your urine on your pants like you’d blacked out https://t.co/RPuiPrWm7F — PolitiTweet.org

Posted Oct. 3, 2022 Hibernated

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New York Magazine @NYMag

@laurensmiley @epic Mize would hit the accelerator, speeding toward you at 40, even 50 mph. Your wounds already throbbed, and you feared that the crash would go off-script to do further damage: glass slicing something vital, a seatbelt rupturing a spleen https://t.co/RPuiPrWm7F — PolitiTweet.org

Posted Oct. 3, 2022 Hibernated