Religion is dumb as f***, all right? It’s racist. It’s sexist. There’s no money in it… anymore. Who needs it?
Look, I got bigger fish to fry, okay? I got to figure out how to get down the stairs.
Life is like a box of timelines.
Well, when the universe f***s with you, let it.
We Vulvokovs exist in the sweet spot where paranoia meets hyperinflation.
We can’t escape being the product of things we can’t change.
We always think that closure is something we can find out there in the world, as if we can find it in another person, or a confession, or an apology. See, in the end, nothing can absolve us but ourselves.
Time is relative to your experience.
This is like “The Game.” I’m Michael Douglas!
There’s nothing as invigorating as that split second of terror that it’s really all over.
The universe is trying to f*** with me, and I refuse to engage.
The universe finally found something worse than death. Being my mother.
