Nope. I have no friends.
Because you speak in song lyrics.
Please do! I doubt I'll live long enough to upload myself to the internet.
Get a power drill and an fMRI map of your brain. Find the voice and drill, baby, drill.
I stopped and asked myself if Hitler would answer this question honestly, or sardonically.
Me. Me all the way.
Fuck if I know. I'm a lesbian, so... I think the adoption centre?
Of course it's not. They let you do it.
"Mommy Kissing Santa Claus". Why the fuck is it alright for mommy to cheat on daddy with Santa, but when daddy cheats on mommy with Bambi he loses his house?
I'd rather perform in the theatre; I like the idea of conveying a character almost entirely through myself, wardrobe, makeup and acting rather than releasing that responsibility to the editors.
Nope. I'm a frayed knot.
I think... I need to visit one.
Because I believe in such horrible things as national pride, traditional social models, and the value of work beyond wages.
Too much makeup. If you wanna look like Justin Dennis, that's great, but I'll be fighting off the urge to stick my thumb in your eye and remove that horrid winged eye-liner.
I'd get a wolf-paw with the Naval 1LT bars in the middle, in honour of Elty.