Until the age of 34 I believed vampires were real.
The inside of my left eyelid itches when I smell pancakes.
To save money, I sometimes steal my tips back when the bartender isn’t looking.
I’m letting the hair on my ears grow out.
Sometimes when I burp it makes me nostalgic, because it smells like the Frito pie served by my high school cafeteria.
I often feel like my life is a prequel to a movie I hated.
I’m one of those people who think President Obama was born in a foreign country, but unlike most, I think that country is New Mexico.
Sometimes I sit on the toilet to combat feelings of loneliness.
Writing this is one of those times.