Butts were spanked; Thoughts were thunk

An awkward pigeon is peering inside the window. My friend Nirvana thinks squirrels are Soviet spies, but I think pigeons are better suited for espionage. 

I learned that plants and animals shrink/swell in size as the moon waxes/wanes.

I don't know if you know this about me, but I have an exceptionally sensitive sense of smell. Two of my coworkers just arrived smelling the same. Does that make sense?

This dude asked me to look at him while I was orgasming. I don't know what guys think women look like while orgasming or if it incites them sexually. I don't know if it looks anything like they show you in porn. I don't know what he expected but I think I may have ruined it for him. 

I have had the busiest and most fantastic week ever. Except for the fact that I cannot take time out for dancing. There's nothing like the intoxication of sleep that comes from busting your ass doing things you like all day.

Some people's names must be so difficult to pronounce during sex. 

I sometimes wonder if the kids of people working in data mining institutions would ever get a "mera baap chor hai" tattoo. You know, cus that would be hilarious.

I'm gonna be calling people who don't pay on dates the 'Tinder Swindler" and people who borrow and never pay back "Anna Delvey" for the rest of my life. Thanks, Netflix. But stop recommending me shows about conning people. I've had enough. More so, I'm scared to go out on a date with someone new [shivers].

Some days, I'm as enthusiastic about life as the people in the Indian Premier League Katy Perry concert. Sometimes life and people are underwhelming.

Some days, I feel like my entire childhood was some delusion I lived in another life - like, it's really been that long. Turning 25 can do that to you. Fucking quarter-life crisis.

Libel's Half-Second Delay states that the human consciousness lags half a second behind the events of the outside world. Neat.

I ate something this month that I shit you not, tasted like Satan's asshole, whatever that means.

This one time I drank so much beetroot juice [homemade, cus self care, ya know] that my poop was blood-red the next morning. No, I did not have piles.

People come and go, seasons change, human beings grow old and die, but Stevie Nicks is timeless. And I sure do love to love her.