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DO NOT TELL ME WHAT IS AND WHAT IS NOT POSSIBLE WE ARE FLOATING ON A SPEC OF DUST IN SPACE AROUND A GIANT BALL OF FIRE. For fuck's sake.
A man just came up to me and asked for the time and then if I was horny. I was tying my shoes on my front porch. Who says love is dead.
Hipster's shirt: "No War But Class War." Dude, you know that you're the bourgeoisie, right?
Newt Gingrich is running for President. LOL. Do we get Kurt Cobain back, too?
3:59. Copyeditor approaches with queries. I discreetly close "playpen balls" pricing window.
What if the 'Friend Zone' were an actual place that you could go to? What would it look like? Mordor, right?
That precise moment when struggle to hang poster becomes desperate struggle for meaning.
I could be trapped in a cabin after an avalanche slowly starving to death and still be kind of like 'you guys! snow! it's snowing!'
LOL @ voicemail.
What if we just, you know, didn't say horrible things about people we don't know on the internet?
Asking people on Grindr what their favorite color is because I want to die alone.
Remember when we spent, like, a month in school learning how to address a paper envelope and not how to program? Sure glad that happened.
Two hydrogen atoms in a park, chilling. One, suddenly frantic. "I lost my electron!" "Are you sure?" asks his friend. "I'm positive!"