don't touch me

dude i go to my friend’s parties and it’s like 75 identical white liberal guys who all wear the same glasses and the girls from work.

my one friend wasn’t allowed to watch spongebob and it genuinely affects how i communicate with her

dude the a/c just broke. we’re so fucked.

every time i try someone’s homemade bread, it’s just okay. how about we just keep going to the bakery guys.

i would rather move back in with my parents than get a second job. i don’t care how much or how little i get paid, i’m not working more than 37.5 hours per week.

if boston dynamics wasn’t owned by the military industrial complex we could have sexbots by now

i don’t have the strength to write a meaningful comment on federal proposals. i’m supposed to say things like “according to rule 7 section 123.6b” but i would actually like to strangle these people to death and it says not to say that. like these proposals don’t deserve a thoughtful comment because the people who wrote the proposal should actually just be shot in the head.

dude when we get our own local and i’m forced to become a union steward, i’ll probably have to start taking drugs. or drinking. i really can’t see another way i would cope with that.

our postdoc is texting me pictures while she’s doing surgeries on mice asking me how to find the pancreas. mind you she’s been here for a year and this is a lab that studies exclusively the pancreas.

partiful is such a comprehensive app. i can’t wait until it’s $20 a month.

my book club picked two books in a row that were from men’s perspectives and i said “we need to pick a woman author next because i can’t stand the way men think about women anymore” next book? lolita

the only emotion i experience particularly strongly is glee. like straight up spinning around and giggling. whistling a little tune.

i’m so mad that when my dad woke up in the middle of the night thinking he was fucking dying because he had vertigo no one called me up to see his nystagmus. everyone knows i love vestibular disorders.