Like tar, if we peel it off your skin will come off too.

I’ll never forget the time I bought a book called Never Eat Alone and my ex ridiculed me for buying it (she’s Chinese so the idea of eating alone was ridiculous to her). I ended up just putting the book in my bookcase, to this day I still feel shitty when I look at it.

Well, we do live in different times. Back then, I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. ‘Gimme five bees for a quarter,’ you’d say. Now where were we? Oh, yeah. The important thing was that I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn’t have any white onions, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones

I used to get my weed in a big trash bag behind the high school from a guy on a yamaha scooter. It was mostly seeds and stems and you had to smoke a lot to even get high but it was great because it gave you something fun to do with friends. I can’t handle the weed people smoke nowadays, one toke sends me straight to the nether realm.

I wonder if there’s anyone alive right now who would be capable of such a task.

Would he have someone bite off his head?

Bruh, I had a colleague who transitioned FTM and he would talk about this all the time. Constantly being told the most basic shit over and over really fucked with the guy before he transitioned, he said not having to deal with it felt like a breath of fresh air.

You should wear two wedding rings, it’ll double your number of flirts plus you’ll seem open to polygamy.

I guess it’s a cultural thing, over here you’d instantly get labeled a social outcast or a gangster.

You’d become unstoppable if you started walking while slav squatting.

I’d say an average of two divorced house wives, one assistant school teacher, one confused undergrad and half a random barrista per year.