Do this: hate him for me after I die. I beg you. Dying request.

Nothing brings you together like a common enemy.

Try to learn to let what is unfair teach you.

It feels intensely twisted to see reigning industry queen Jenna Jameson chilling out at the Vivid booth in Jordaches and a latex bustier and to know already that she has a tattoo of a sundered valentine with the tagline Heart Breaker on her right buttock and a tiny hairless ole just left of her anus.

‎Who would die for this chance to be fed this death of pleasure with spoons, in their warm homes, alone, unmoving?

Dieting makes me want to murder everyone around me.

The great thing about irony is that it splits things apart, gets up above them so we can see the flaws and hypocrisies and duplicates.