XI am done with the letter X, and the letter X is done with me.
X has become proliferate in the naming of technology I would rather not use. Each time X pops up it whispers promises of hidden treasures and sunken ships, and too many of them lie to make those that tell truth to be worth finding. When I go to pluralize X, it makes fool of me. I put two pennies on X, because X has crossed me too many times. The letter X is done with me, and I am done with it.
Cross my heart.
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