“How are you? I am willing everything to be ok from here. I know I likely don’t have those kind of powers, but I’m using this situation to hone said powers to every plausible extreme. Hopefully at the end of it, we’ll both realize that you’re doing fantastically and I’m a little psychic.”
Some days I feel like everyone’s relationship to me is based on whether they think the stupid shit I say is funny. Then after that, it’s based on if they know my brother, because his stupid shit is funnier than my stupid shit. Then after that, it’s based on my boobs. Because, hey, boobs.
I hope some people just like me.