I’ve got two bunnies running around my place. They do cute things, like bunnies do. It’s hard to be upset when you watch them frolicking together.

Buying speed from a dealer who was advertising on Craigslist. It all went fine, but that doesn’t stop it from being a bad idea.

If your nihilism doesn’t make you happy, you’re doing it wrong. The absence of meaning should be a liberating factor, not a limiting one. It’s actually dope as fuck that there’s no greater purpose to your life, you can never fail as a person when there’s no standard you feel you have to meet.

The overwhelming majority of car accidents are caused by people with driver’s licenses, so having one obviously makes you a worse driver.

Whether they’re all-in on China or think that Xi is the anti-Christ, the end result is exactly the same: absolutely nothing whatsoever. There isn’t a local left, much less a national left; certainly there isn’t anything that anybody could seriously call an international movement. The opinions of random westerners mean absolutely nothing to the CCP. Fixating on what we have zero influence over is wholly unproductive.

Maybe in 20 years we’ll have cobbled together a movement that Beijing thinks is even worth offering a nod to, but right now we’re a bit too irrelevant to worry about our place on the global stage.

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A girl I was seeing asked me what I liked about her and I drew a complete blank. There was plenty to like about her, but when put on the spot I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I don’t blame her for leaving me not too long after that.

The alternative is admitting that they had a complete meltdown over a balloon. People can force themselves to believe basically anything if it can save them the embarrassment of admitting they were enthusiastically wrong.

Thankfully it was only a warship, if it was a balloon things might have gotten serious.

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I’m liking it so far, it’s pretty educational given that I know next to nothing about Japanese prisons. Horrific situations that are thinly coated over with cuteness are my jam, but I get why some people might think it’s tasteless. If it’s making you miserable, don’t read the notes in chapter 3 about ‘reflection rooms’.

I would punch JFK in the face right as he’s getting shot so it looks like I hit him so hard that his head exploded.