I love computer, deeply and truly. but I fear that sometimes… she does not love me back.

asking the FCC to go after your alma mater for sending you spam is like having a very weak, sad chihuahua bite you, so you find an even weaker, sadder pitbull and ask it to hunt the chihuahua.

okay, wild night. everyone can still count to 20, right?

phone charged, makeup on-point, eaten a real meal

seems I can only ever pick two of three.

things that only get worse when ignored: minimum payments, gender dysphoria, dependency hell.