





Big enough to live in it; small enough not to live for it.
Preferably, it teleports on a regular basis, so I don’t have to — you know— live in one place for the rest of my life.




What brings a tear of joy to your eye?
Feigning melodrama.




Post-breakfast satiety with a side of caffeine rush.



I poop. Surely, I would have exploded in my youth if I hadn’t developed the habit. I feel my quality of life as a human must be better than the quality of life of gut bacteria in wall-spattered fecal matter. At least I have the leisure and capacity to contemplate such things.


