Zombies want brains. I'm safe.
Most women desire someone who makes them laugh and also feel safe.
So basically a clown ninja.
I went for a run but came back after two minutes because I forgot something.
I forgot I'm out of shape and can't run for more than two minutes.
When posting on Facebook status, there is a fine line between,
"What's on your mind?" and
"I should probably see a therapist about this."
"...and when you get older and have your own children and
THEY make YOU go batshit-wingnut crazy,
I will laugh and laugh and..."
I'm not anti-social.
I just prefer not to deal with your drivel.
If life gives you melons you might be dyslexic.
I'm not short. I'm fun-sized.