Enough with the songs already. WE GET IT. YOU’RE A SINGER.

Me: I’m my own worst critic. The internet: HOLD MY BEER

I would love a Netflix docuseries about my life because I’m very confused about what’s going on.

A much better version of myself packed me lunch today and I hate them so much.

I love going to volunteer at wildlife rehabilitation centres to make sure the wildlife aren’t going drugs anymore.

Holy hell there are some weird people on here. But enough about me.

My body is a machine. It’s just constantly out of order.

I must have tried 100 of them but no tape tastes like scotch. Zero stars.

My least favourite breed of horse is the Clothes Horse.

I’m not very good at reading the room. If it was an audiobook I’d be much better.

So speed walking doesn’t involve taking speed? I’ve been doing this all wrong.

I’m a morning person. Sorry mourning person.

This whole ‘killing them with kindness’ thing is taking a lot longer than I thought.

Just one time I’d like my dog to congratulate me on a big stretch.

I’m not so much climbing the ladder but instead standing at the bottom, aggressively shaking it, hoping the good shit falls down.

“I love to have a laugh as much as the next person” they lied.

Don’t talk to me before I’ve had my morning breakdown.

Sadly I have the losing-my-phone-charger habit of a much wealthier man.

Explain it to me like I’m 33 years old and not bright.

Ubereats is a miracle. I search what I want on my phone and it arrives, cold and only $52 for a burger.