Fences belong outside. in The Napkin.

I never learned how to do 5th grade insults. I find them confusing and I never know how to reply. And it’s frustrating when I get upset and reply with anger, only to be told “you can’t get upset at that, it was just a joke.”

I do innocuous puns. Play on words. Observations. Such as, saying to someone “It would be an awful shame if something happened to your face.” Because it would be. It would be. Most people enjoy having a face. IT LITERALLY WOULD BE BAD IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE.

Most people have between one and three ears.

Technically speaking, I have had sex with less than a million women.

It’s true!

I’m usually pretty quiet unless I feel safe around someone. Because I’m apparently prone to being offensive. I say things and there’s this “well, that was weird” response. It’s trained me to just not speak.

I recall once I was on break. Lauren comes up to me and tells me how once she was having sex and wearing a butt plug, and her butt slurp swallowed the plug. Was I offended? Of course not. Was it potentially offensive? Probably to someone. At most, I probably made the “Ya know, I’m trying to eat” joke followed by sensually eating.

(She overshares and can kind of get away with it because she’s a woman. But I do wonder if it’s ever had consequences.)

Am I insulting? Nah. I have to be poked and poked into anger. It’s like… I have to let things go because I’m supposed to, so when I finally flip it can seem like it’s coming out of nowhere.

I don’t really like the idea of hurting anyone. But god damn, when people piss me off. It’s like I’ve been calculating for when I could be justified.

Eh, just talking out loud. Humans are scary. Always a power struggle.