I'm amazed how unmoved I am by my own antics.

There needs to be a website where you can type in your birthday and you're given a list of celebrities that died on that day and you can go "Oh my god I am the reincarnation of John Lennon!!" (or similar).

- "What would you rather eat, a dog or a human?"
- "Hrmph. A dog."
- "Urgh! I wouldn't leave you alone with my dog!"
- "I wouldn't leave you alone with my human!"

At least I am consistently flakey.

















*"Science! Urrggh!" (from any other lips these words would have appalled me).

I woke up late next day after a broken sleep. But my sleep had not refreshed me: I woke bilious, irritable, ill-tempered, and looked with hatred at my room.


That's right. I awoke one morning to find myself transformed into the body of Raskolnikov.





(I need to get out more.
Read less.
Meet real girls.)