Jonathan Strangest

I'm Möbiusgender, meaning I seem male at first, but once you get to know me I exude feminine energy. Get to know me even deeper and realize that's just a front to make me seem interesting, but the next layer is that it was always genuine and I dismiss it as a bit because I'm self conscious about it, etc.

I'm sick of hashtags. I don't care who sees my content. I post for me.

Jason Alexander was my tax advisor in a dream last night. He told me that things looked pretty good but that I should be borrowing clothes and introduced me to a fashion loaning service. The first grouping of clothes were blazers, dress pants, and traditional african tank tops made from recycled plastic bags.

The 90s called again. This time it was my voice, 30 years ago. God, how I used to be happy, before I knew better, before I knew worse. I told him to buy real estate after the crash in 2008 but he didn't really understand, not that he had the means to do it. Was it wrong to try and alleviate some stress and concern in his future at the cost of his youthful obliviousness?

Nothing makes me think more than a caption that tells me to "think about it." Don't know what I'd do without it.

The 50s called, they think the way I've described their future (my present) is pretty darn swell—only because wasps were the only ones who had a voice back then.

The 2090s called. They want to know the origin of the phrase "Call the bank! I'm ovulating!" I told them to call back later because we haven't invented it yet.

The 1890s called. It was an awkward exchange without the usual phonecall conventions and a lot of pauses. They didn't have anything to say, I think they were just getting a feel for how a telephone works.

The 90s called. They want their CD binder back, but I told them I don't have it. The 90s are so mad. Yes I was the last person in the car where they keep it, but I don't even remember seeing it when I was in there. Please guys, you gotta believe me.

The 90s called, just to say hi. It kind of seemed like they were trying to get me to ask about them, but I'm immune to those kinds of games.

The 90s called, they want their T-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt back. I tried to tell them that they do have it, at least in the 90s, but that I have it now. We can both have it, just at different times. That's how time works.

The 90s called. They're not mad, they're just...disappointed

The 90s called. They said they're going to do everything they can to keep it from happening. I asked them to be more specific but they didn't want to contaminate the timeline, though I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that.

The 90s called to inform me that the 90s is not a monolith. The spectrum that is the 90s varies greatly and terribly, and spans like ten years or something. I was falling asleep, I have to wake up early tomorrow.

The 90s called and wanted the winning lottery numbers. I was at my computer so I was like "for what day?" but they couldn't give me a straight answer.