
You can force compersion on yourself, right? Right?

You can force compersion on yourself, right? Right?

My patience for know-it-alls is … limited.
Blame my ex-wife.

I’m not hung over, you’re hung over. Ssssshhhhhhhhh. Object quieter.

You should invite me to all of your parties. Or, given the amount of food I made for my party, make me host every party.

Apparently a sense of self-worth is very expensive.

Heather is a monster made of hair and spite.

An unforgivable sin.

I deserve my own side-eye.

I’m baffled when people say that the internet is a way for people to avoid connection. Connection is basically all I use it for.

I am the king of fixing water heaters (because I called my landlord and he took care of it).