I reserve the right to bastardize the English language in any way I please. I feel entitled to break the rules based on my above average knowledge of, pff, well. Everything. Breaking rules because you’re a dummy is just dumbness. But breaking them on purpose is amusing, and I’m just so durn darn smart that it’s actually impossible for me to succumb to accidental errorism. I’m a little bit modest about it sometimes, but it’s a fact — I’ve never made a mistake in my life. Anything that happens to look even a little bit mistakey is designed that way.

…

Do you ever have the feeling that people just don’t “get” you… Yeah… ’cause…

I guess it’s hard for the imperfect to comprehend the utter perfectness of my perfection.

I have no idea what I’m talking about.

“I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea.”

I’m going to go watch The Pickup Artist.

Truth about anyone that tries this: Cares too much what other people think about them. Insecure. Uptight. Cowardly. Bureaucratic. Perhaps a try-hard. I hate try-hards.

I dunno, this reminds me of slam books in third grade… “How much do you like me on a scale of one to five? Do you want to be my boyfriend? Check one: [ ] yes / [ ] no / [ ] maybe.”

Anywhom… Youself!